An Unholy Alliance
by InSilva
Summary: Set about six or seven years before O11, Danny and Rusty find that needs must when the devil drives. Warnings for profanity and violence. Complete.
1. Long time, no see

An Unholy Alliance by InSilva

Disclaimer: lest anyone should be in any doubt, I own no Ocean's characters.

Summary: Set about six or seven years before O11, Danny and Rusty find that needs must when the devil drives. Warnings for profanity and violence.

A/N: later chapters, I feel, will merit a higher rating. But I'm starting this off with a T.

Chapter One: Long time, no see

* * *

"Honey, I'm home", Danny says as he returns from a scouting trip to a museum in San Francisco, walking through the door of the apartment to find Rusty on the phone and frowning.

The frown is not good. The frown is never good. Not when it's really meant. Saratoga is done and dusted, Danny is sure, which means this is something else and something serious. Rusty motions Danny in and then carries on with his call. Danny listens to the one-sided conversation.

"I see."

"No, I haven't tried there."

"Who do you…? Right, right."

"Could he…? Right."

Danny has no clue other than what he reads in Rusty. And what he reads in Rusty is bad. Beyond bad, actually. Probably heading towards worst.

"Hodkinson. Right. OK, thanks, thanks so much."

He hangs up and explains everything with one word, "Saul".

Danny takes a deep breath and thinks about what he's heard. Heading towards worst but not quite there yet.

"Missing?"

"Since Friday. No one's seen him."

"Gerard Hodkinson involved?"

Rusty nods then qualifies, "Apparently he knows where Saul's been."

"We need to talk to him."

_Now._

* * *

Gerard Hodkinson is a wealthy man who has grown rich by clever dealings, legal and otherwise, and who has the rare gift of a man in his position of possessing good manners and a kind word for those he works with and those who work for him. He treats the people on the way up the way he'd want to be treated on the way down. Not that this means he is not more than capable of the ruthless: but if any unpleasantness should ensue, he would be at pains to remind you that it was strictly business.

Danny and Rusty have had a few meetings with him before and they know their way around the steel and glass building, charming their way through layers of security and PAs until they reach Gerard's office. Danny smiles at Elizabeth, the secretary on guard and Rusty's hand is already opening Gerard's office door.

"You can't-" Elizabeth begins and Danny's smile grows wider.

"Trust me, Elizabeth, he'll want to see us."

Gerard is on the phone and closes the call as Rusty walks in, closely followed by Danny who pushes the door to behind him.

"Guys…I'm…"

"Sorry about the unannounced visit, Gerard," Danny says, "but we understand that you're in a position to help us."

"Someone we know, someone you know…" Rusty continues.

"Saul Bloom," Danny says.

Gerard looks between them and then sighs and waves a hand at the two chairs in front of his desk and they sit down.

"Saul's missing," Rusty begins and Gerard nods.

"Three days ago," he says quietly. "Not a peep from him since."

"Tell us," Danny says.

"I had a European consignment that needed a courier and Saul was in the right place at the right time."

"Really?" Rusty's word is laden with enquiry.

"Look, it was straightforward enough – a pick-up from Amsterdam-"

"Diamonds?"

Gerard nods at Danny.

"Then there was to be a little detour to cover his trail and home. But he's not been in contact since he collected the goods."

"Three days ago," Rusty exhales.

"Yes. He was supposed to make a call from Berlin but he didn't. No one's heard from him since. If I didn't know better, I'd think Saul might be considering a little-"

"No," Danny says firmly and Gerard nods.

"I know. It's not Saul's style. I trusted him enough to pick them up in the first place."

Rusty leans forward. "We'll find him, Gerard. And we'll find-"

"-your diamonds and bring them back to you," Danny promises.

Gerard sighs regretfully.

"Guys, I've just lined someone up to go after them," he checks his watch, "and he's going to be here any moment."

"Cancel him," Danny suggests.

"I've given him a down payment-"

"We can cover that."

"With interest," Rusty adds.

"He's an effective operator."

"More effective than us?" Danny asks and Gerard rolls his eyes. He knows the score with Danny and Rusty.

"He's efficient," Gerard insists. "He was a big noise about ten years ago and then he had a little run in with the law and…well…he's making his way back up the ladder. He's hungry."

He looks at both of them.

"He's got ground knowledge," Gerard goes on. "He's worked with the people the diamonds belong to."

_Belong to…?_

_Don't like the sound of it either._

Danny and Rusty straighten up in their chairs.

"Who'd they belong to?" Danny asks and there is an edge to his voice.

"European outfit. Joint US-Euro venture, really. Excuse me." This as the intercom buzzes.

"Mr Hodkinson, your visitor is here."

"Please show him in, Elizabeth."

Gerard stands up and Danny and Rusty follow suit and then the door opens and the game begins.

On rare occasions, one of them will let slip his smooth persona and the other covers effortlessly. It doesn't happen often. What happens even less, and can be counted on the fingers of one hand, is for them both to be caught out.

Which is precisely what they are now. Because stepping into the room with a smile that grows and grows like Topsy, is one man neither of them ever wanted to see again.

"This is Rusty Ryan and Danny Ocean," Gerard introduces.

"So very, very pleased to meet you, Mr Ryan. May I call you Rusty?" the newcomer says, stretching out a hand for Rusty to shake with a smile so wide it threatens to crack his skull.

"Guys, this is Bryn Gower," Gerard completes unnecessarily.

Rusty stares at Bryn as if his very worst nightmare has come to life and is standing in front of him. The last time he saw him… He looks at the hand outstretched in front of him and remembers the fingers running with purpose across his shoulder-blades… He cannot contemplate completing the handshake.

"Danny Ocean." Danny steps round him and grips Bryn's hand and Rusty knows Danny's knuckles are white: he can hear it in Danny's voice.

Bryn's eyes leave Rusty's face and take in Danny and the gleam in them is bad enough to make Rusty want to grab Danny, drag him away from Bryn and for them to run, run and hide. Except that they can't. Because Bryn's just been given their real names. And Saul's still out there.

Danny drops Bryn's hand like it belongs to the lowest form of life and Rusty can feel him suppressing the urge to wipe his own hand on his clothes.

"Danny and Rusty want to find the courier. He's a friend of theirs," Gerard says helpfully, unwittingly adding another paper cut for Bryn to drop lemon juice on.

"Saul Bloom's a friend?" Bryn looks like he can't stop smiling and Rusty is so, so glad that Danny came back when he did, came with him to see Gerard, because he needs that strength, he needs it badly. Bryn nods to himself. "I guess they want to tag along then."

Bryn's gaze is back on Rusty and Rusty makes himself meet it. He is not going to start backing down now. He feels Danny move further in front of him, unblinking and hostile.

"Well, I have to say, I think they'd be assets," Gerard says by way of providing a reference.

"Oh, I just bet they will," Bryn grins.

"So…" Gerard looks over at Danny and Rusty and the question hangs in the air.

Bryn looks from one of them to the other and shakes his head.

"That's the thing about meeting someone properly, isn't it?" Bryn smiles. "When you've been introduced, you have to work so hard just at remembering names, you're stunned into silence. Tell you what. I'll go and wait in the bar over the road and you can come and find me when you're decided."

He glances at Rusty. "Missing you already."

The door closes behind him and Danny immediately turns to Gerard.

"Whatever you're paying him, whatever you want him to do…" Danny is hoarse with emotion.

"…ditch him and let us do it," Rusty finishes, his voice like ice.

"Guys, guys," Gerard looks faintly embarrassed. "It's not the money and it's not that I doubt your abilities…but Bryn knows the people. He knows where to start looking. And he's got a vested interest in finding those diamonds and bringing them back to me. Because if he does, I can open a door to let him back in to where he wants to be."

He looks from one to the other.

"I know you're worried about Saul. _I'm_ a little worried about Saul. But the diamonds are what I'm most worried about and they're what Bryn's going after. If you want to go with him…"

_Oh, God…_ Rusty's nails instinctively dig into the palms of his hands and he forces his fingers to unclench; splays his fingers; holds his hands down at his side. And he can feel the tension emanating from Danny, leaking out across the room. Neither of them are dealing with that suggestion well.

"Look, Danny…Rusty…I know you work together and I know you work together well. But Bryn's going hunting, whatever. Maybe your best plan _is_ to go with him. Why don't you go and talk it over with him?"

_Talk it over… _

_Sounds almost civilised. _

_Rusty, I-_

"Thanks, Gerard," Rusty says by way of closing. "You've no idea how helpful you've been."

* * *

A/N: Yeah. He's back. So this has been hanging around since May as a general idea. And I really thought it was about time I started on it properly.

And anyone who does not know the history with Bryn Gower will probably benefit from reading the other Brynverse in the following order: "Information Gathering", "An Unhappy Coincidence" and "Tell".


	2. Gentlemen's Agreement

An Unholy Alliance by InSilva

Disclaimer: Danny and Rusty would like it to be known they do not belong to me.

Chapter Two: Gentlemen's Agreement

* * *

Separate in heavy silence, they leave the office together, together they walk past Elizabeth and out into a corridor and as they get into the empty elevator, Danny jams it to a stop and grabs Rusty's arm.

"Don't even think about it," he warns.

_Got to._

They stare at each other for a moment, each of them hands on hips. Rusty, with signs of obstinacy already showing, Danny searching and not liking the answers he's finding.

"You cannot be serious," Danny begins.

Rusty gives him an exasperated look. "Danny…"

"After the first time. After the jail. After that damn shower," he forces the last two words out with difficulty. "There is no way you're going within touching distance of him. Hell, I don't even want the two of you on the same continent."

Rusty says nothing.

"The man's-" Danny breaks off because he's yet to reach a definition in his head that he's happy with of what exactly Bryn is. He stares unblinking at Rusty. "He had you pinned to that hotel room floor. He had you backed up against that cell wall. He had you in that boiler room-"

"Alright!" Rusty snaps. "What do you want me to say?"

Danny holds his gaze as he runs a hand through his hair.

"Do you think for one second I've forgotten? Do you think I don't remember his weight on top of me? His fingers in my hair? The taste of him? The _feel_ of him?" Rusty folds his arms and leans back against the wall of the lift. "Do you think I don't know how fucked up he left me?"

He swallows hard. "But it's Saul, Danny."

Danny exhales and gives a little unamused half-smile at the inevitability of it all. Because this is Bryn but more importantly, this is Saul. And Saul matters.

Rusty starts to puzzle over how they can get what they want without giving Bryn what he wants. Because diamonds aside, there has indeed been just too much dangerous interest in Bryn's eyes for Rusty to ignore. His fingers wander up to his lips and he rubs the corner of his mouth. There must be another way…

With a tense, little expression, Danny knocks Rusty's hand away from his mouth.

_What the-? _Rusty looks at him genuinely bewildered.

"Don't…" Danny says, his voice tight in a way that Rusty cannot for the life of him fathom, "just…" he draws a breath and then in a steadier voice, says, "Just don't."

And before Rusty can ponder too long or too hard about that, Danny goes on, "I'll go. I'll go with him and-"

"Right," Rusty interrupts, "because that would do wonders for my anxiety levels." He shakes his head. "We go together, Danny. Because from the sound of it Saul's going to need both of us to get him out of whatever he's gotten into."

"Bryn-" And the name is delivered with loathing and fear and entreaty.

"It's not like we're going to be in jail. It's not like we're going to be locked up with him."

"No, no, that's true," Danny agrees and his mouth twists. "We're just going to have to travel with him, speak to him, share the same air as him…"

Rusty closes his eyes.

"Rus," And Danny is pleading now. "Suppose this time he… Suppose you can't get away… Suppose I can't stop him…Suppose I'm not in time… Suppose…" his voice is rich with agony. He pauses and then says in a quiet and crumpled kind of way. "Suppose."

Emotions are marauding across Rusty's face but he regains control and he opens his eyes and looks at Danny.

"OK," Rusty nods. "Let's suppose. Let's suppose that we let Bryn go alone after Saul and the diamonds. Let's suppose that Bryn finds Saul and the diamonds before we do. Let's suppose, once he has the diamonds, how much of a flying fuck Bryn is going to give for Saul."

Danny grimaces because he can imagine exactly how much mercy Bryn would show Saul.

There is silence.

"I can do it," Rusty says finally and waits.

Danny sighs and pulls a face. "We can do it," he confirms.

* * *

As they step out of the lift and out of the building and head towards the bar across the street, they are still talking tactics.

"He thinks he knows about us," Rusty points out.

"He also thinks he knows about _us_," Danny adds.

"And he's wrong on both counts."

"Let's try and keep him on the back foot."

_Yeah. _

"Rus, just…"

_I know. You too._

* * *

As they walk in, they see Bryn lounging at the bar, swilling the spirits and ice round in his glass. The few years since they last saw him have not changed him much. There is more silver in his hair but that is the only outward sign that he is older. He is still built for power and strength and time spent inside has not allowed him the opportunity to run to fat. For a man a little over fifty, he looks as formidable as he did when they first met him.

Bryn looks up at them in the bar mirror and the grin appears on his face once again. Spinning round on his stool, he raises the glass in mock-salute as they stand in front of him.

"Gentlemen. We have got to stop meeting like this."

"Our sentiments exactly," Danny assures him in a similar light tone but with a hard underbelly.

Sipping his drink, Bryn looks at them in turn.

"Rusty Ryan and Danny Ocean," he says. "What happened to Jeff Smith and George Bailey?"

Rusty looks thoughtful. "Didn't one go to Washington?"

"Yeah," Danny nods. "And the other one had a wonderful life."

Bryn isn't fazed. "Isn't life wonderful, though? I mean, this morning when I woke up, how could I have known I'd be running into you two?"

_Yeah…_

_Yeah…_

Bryn's eyes travel up and down Rusty and Rusty's teeth press tightly together behind his lips.

"I have to say though that you still look…hmm…I'm going to have to think about that adjective."

The barman arrives before either of them can say anything.

"Can I help you, sirs?"

"No, thanks," Danny shakes his head. "This isn't a social occasion."

"Still not inviting me out for drinks?" Bryn smiles up at him as the barman slips away. His smile slides over to Rusty. "What about you? Because hooking up in a bar can lead to such interesting consequences, don't you think?"

"I think you'd better stay sat down, old man," Rusty said. "Can't be good for your blood pressure."

"Nothing wrong with my blood pressure," Bryn assures him. "Or my blood flow. Which I'd be very happy to prove." He throws a glance at Danny. "You know, Danny, I prefer blonds but I could go a threesome. Or you could just watch."

Danny is staring at him with such vivid hatred that Rusty does not have to turn his head to see it.

Bryn's face changes. "Oh, oh-ho." His eyes dart to Rusty. "I must really have fucked you up badly."

And Rusty blinks.

"Did you tell him everything?" Bryn asks, probing.

"I told him."

"About how vulnerable you were? About the camera?"

"He told me."

Bryn looks a little disappointed that the baiting isn't working.

"He'd have gone through with it, you know, for you." He looks at Danny. "And I think he'd have enjoyed it."

Danny makes an involuntary start forward but Rusty blocks him with his shoulder.

Bryn shakes his head.

"Too easy," he says to Danny. He looks at Rusty. "But you...you're still playing hard to get. And you've got to know what that does to me."

He leans forward and the lightness drops from his face and his voice.

"Had my way, I'd bend you over that bar stool right now. I'd be fucking you so hard you wouldn't know what day of the week it is. Or I'd have you kneeling on the floor in front of me, taking a full load, swallowing and asking for seconds."

"Have you finished?" Rusty asks mildly.

"Oh, I doubt I've started." Bryn sits back contemplatively and the smooth veneer returns. "So, you're here because you want to come with and find your friend, yes?"

"Yes," Danny agrees.

"Well, the pleasure of your company is an unexpected bonus. One that I really can't turn down. Besides, Danny…Rusty…" he lingers over the names in a way that sends unpleasant ripples through both of them, "Gerard seems to think the pair of you could be helpful."

"We've got contacts," Rusty says and Bryn nods.

"Sounds like it's meant to be."

"Ground rules," Danny says firmly.

Full of amusement, Bryn's gaze flicks across to him. "OK, Danny-boy. Shoot."

"You do not touch him. If you do, I'll make sure you regret it."

"Physical violence?" Bryn sounds horrified but his face is full of laughter.

"You'd better believe it." And Danny's eyes are promising death.

The grin fades from Bryn and he stares hard at Danny as if trying to work out how serious he is. Since Danny means every word and has put everything into the vow, there's no doubting his sincerity. Bryn puts the empty glass down on the bar and slowly gets to his feet and this time, his gaze moves over Rusty and the little pink tip of his tongue is visible between his lips as he stands there, considering.

"I can do that," Bryn nods and turns to Danny. "Until the diamonds are recovered, I won't lay a finger on him. If I do, you can try and pound me into oblivion."

Danny looks into Bryn's eyes, dark and cold and strangely sincere. Bryn sticks his hand out and reluctantly, for the second time in less than an hour, Danny shakes it. Bryn hangs on to Danny's hand, his fingers crushing Danny's.

"But the reverse is true, too. You hit me, and all bets are off. Your boyfriend's fair game. You think you can control yourself?"

"Longer than you," Danny assures him.

"OK," Bryn lets go of him and becomes business-like. "Flight to Amsterdam is at eight in the morning. I'll pick up three tickets and see you at check-in."

_Terrific._

_Lovely._

"Sleep well, both of you," Bryn says and, with a parting glance at Rusty, adds, "I know I'll be having very pleasant dreams."

* * *

They wait till he's gone and then Rusty's shoulders dip and Danny runs a hand over his mouth.

"Well."

"Yeah."

"Those tickets…?"

"Oh, we're buying our own. Obviously."

"Yeah, 'cos I have a feeling he has plans for you two to get cosy in Business while I'm on another flight."

A little half-grin appears on Rusty's face and Danny stares at him incredulously.

"What is amusing you?"

"You," Rusty smiles and then elaborates, "Your macho streak."

_You've either got it or you haven't._

Rusty chuckles and then they both grow serious.

"I got the feeling he might mean it."

Danny thinks about what he's read in Bryn and about how he once described anticipation as a powerful tool.

"I think he might mean it too, Rus. He needs those diamonds and we can help him get them." His eyes are troubled. "But even if he means it, we don't trust him."

"Only as far as we could comfortably spit him."

"Spit? Or…spit?"

"Has anyone told you you may have too much imagination?"

Danny grins. "Never."

Rusty's answering grin fades away. "You do know he's going to push you."

"He's going to push both of us," Danny points out.

_We've got to-_

_-all the time._

"So. Amsterdam."

"Matsui."

"Right."

* * *

Back at his apartment, Bryn books the tickets and then grabs a shower, standing in the warm jets of water and letting his mind wander.

He'd been delighted when Gerard had called him. It showed he was back on the radar and it meant that if he could pull this off – and Bryn had no doubt about his own capabilities – then wheels would be greased and he could do away with months, maybe years, of groundwork and leap further back up the ladder of influence. Because eight and a half years behind bars has cramped his style somewhat.

When the door to Gerard's office had opened and he'd seen the pair of them standing there, he'd felt like all his Christmases had come at once. He could see the disbelief in both of them, the shock and the dismay and he loved it. And to be given their names…their real names at that…

The blond…not a Texan cowboy hustler, not a fish called Jeff Smith…Rusty Ryan…Bryn rolls the name around his head. It suits the man. Alliterative and catchy. And the man himself has not grown ugly. He still looks young and slim and while there is not exactly a hint of the fragile about him, he's still always going to come second in a physical encounter with Bryn.

As for Danny Ocean…he's still recognisable too. Dark and handsome and so not his type. Bryn hadn't been lying. But still attached to Rusty, that much is obvious. Willing to protect him at all costs.

Stepping out of the shower and towelling off, Bryn smiles to himself. He'll go along with the bargain he'd struck. Right up to the point where he won't. And he'll have enormous fun while he is waiting. By the time he has Rusty where he wants him, the man will look at him with eyes full of hate. He can see it.

He gives an almost silent, little moan of pleasure at the thought and then shakes himself. A thought occurs to him and he picks up a video-cassette from the shelf and loads it into his VCR. Then he settles down on the couch, his eyes closed, listening. Bryn doesn't need to watch. He likes to use his imagination.


	3. Baggage Handling

An Unholy Alliance by InSilva

Disclaimer: Danny and Rusty most certainly are not my creation.

Chapter Three: Baggage Handling

* * *

Sometime in the night, Danny has ended up in his bed. He hasn't heard him enter the room. He hasn't felt him arrive. But the fact that Danny is there fast asleep, lying close to him, doesn't surprise him in the least.

His mind is full of two names. Saul. Missing. Alone? Taken? Injured? He swallows. Out of contact cannot be good. They need to find him and fast.

And that leads him to Bryn. Seeing him again, the complete delight on his face…hearing his name, hearing _Danny's_ name falling from Bryn's mouth… Rusty's mind is back to the jail, back to the moment when he was certain that Bryn had Danny somewhere, when he was certain that Bryn was going to win… He'd felt so exposed. So much of the inside of him on show. And then he thinks again of the first time…

_The hotel bar is busy and it takes him a moment to see him. Then he spots Bryn nursing a drink at a table and he can spot Bryn's men, hanging at the bar and looking thoroughly bored. Whatever Bryn's paying them, the job satisfaction quotient is obviously low._

_He walks slowly up to the table, feeling his way further into the role as he does. Whatever he's said to Danny, this is not going to be just another part and he wants to get his story straight and be in the right frame of mind because if Bryn wants details, he's going to need them._

_He can hide inexperience behind inexperience, he decides. New boys roll up in town all the time. They roll up in all towns all the time. And he has a backstory prepared of wanting to see the bright lights and get away from the ranch. Should Bryn ask. Should Bryn care. Should Bryn bother. _

_He puts a hand out to grip the back of the chair and drops his weight on to one hip, pushing his body forward._

"_You on your own, sir?" he asks with the Texan drawl he wants to disappear behind._

_Slowly, Bryn raises his gaze from his glass and they move upwards over the tight pants and the chiffon shirt and then Bryn is looking at his face, drawn to his mouth, and almost as an afterthought, to his eyes…_

"_Not anymore, son," smiles Bryn and he sits down opposite at the implied invitation._

_Bryn summons one of his men._

"_What are you drinking?"_

"_Whisky."_

"_Of course. Whisky and a soda water, Harold." Bryn pushes his previous drink away and says, "I like to clean my palate."_

_He's not sure if he's supposed to know what "palate" means so he just smiles a lazy smile and rocks back in his chair and knows that Bryn's eyes are all over his chest and his shoulders and arms._

"_Bryn Gower."_

"_I'm-"_

_Bryn holds up a hand. _

"_I don't need names, son," Bryn says. "As long as you remember mine." _

_The drinks arrive and Bryn passes the whisky to him and their hands brush. Bryn looks like the contact has given him an untold thrill. All he can think of, by contrast, is that this is the man who has broken all of Kenneth Weller's fingers so that it's unlikely Ken will ever work again. This is the man who smashed Kenneth Weller's jaw into so many pieces that it's unlikely Ken will ever _speak _properly again. And Ken is harmless. Clumsy and ridiculous to try and lift Bryn's wallet but harmless. It angered Danny and it angered him and it's not the only incident they've heard about. They want to hit Bryn where it's going to hurt him most but to set him up, they need that combination to his safe and that's what he's doing here._

_He sips the whisky and Bryn sips the soda water and there is light flirtation. Nothing crude and nothing obvious but he feels certain that things are going to be moving outside of the bar. __Just to check his understanding is correct, he lets his tongue show briefly at the side of his mouth and notes with gratification that Bryn leans even further forward and stares at his lips with interest. Job done, he feels._

_As he finishes the whisky, Bryn is baring his teeth with what can only be anticipation and it sets him slightly on edge. Because although he has confidence in the power of the drug in his pocket to lay Bryn out stone cold, he can see what Bryn has on his mind and Bryn can back that up with more physical strength than he himself possesses. There is definitely something of the animal about Bryn._

_He's decided that he's not going to get away without being kissed by Bryn and he's doing his best not to think about that too much. He can't imagine it's going to be anything he will want to repeat. Danny earlier, on the other hand, _is_ a pleasant thought. Gentle and caring and full of passion and it had been strange and alien but at the same time so natural and above all else, it had been Danny._

"_Another drink?" Bryn asks._

"_Thank you, Mr Gower," he nods._

_He downs the next quickly and the following one more quickly still. He does not feel the effects of the alcohol at all and he doubts that he is going to. Because his focus is Bryn's eyes that are like dark diamonds, sparkling across the table at him, telling him that he is looking forward to a little private time. A little private time when Mr Gower can get better acquainted with his new friend._

_He's not going to back down; he's not going to not go through with it; he's not going to be overwhelmed by the sudden nervousness at the way Bryn is looking at him, looking at him with the relish that he himself saves for food he likes. He continues to look up under his lashes at Bryn and to let the smile play around his face and to chew lightly on the knuckle of his left index finger and then to run the fingertip of the same finger slowly around the inside of his bottom lip and…he can almost smell Bryn's interest._

"_I think we're finished here, son," Bryn declares, sitting back in his chair and he feels a shiver running through him and thanks fuck for the Mickey. In, out, slip Bryn something before it all gets too serious. It's a plan. It's a good plan. And it's going to work._

Well, it would have worked. Rusty screws his eyes up and stops the playback right there. He's not going to revisit the jail. He is not. He is not. He is not…

_He hears the voice and it's familiar and there's a moment where he searches for the reference and then it hits him and fear floods him before he pushes it away, back down where it belongs._

_He turns round and he sees him and he keeps his face cold and blank. And then hands are laid on him, laid on _Danny_ and they're being dragged out of sight and into a dirty little world that is all Bryn's._

_He stands stock still and keeps emotion off his face and out of his voice as Bryn leans in to him, as Bryn talks, as Bryn runs his hands purposefully over him, as Bryn tells him in not so many words that he wants to pick up where he left off, as Bryn strikes Danny, as Bryn's mouth forces itself on his, as Bryn pushes himself up against him hard…_

_He wants to scream. He wants to punch. He wants to run. But he has Danny there. He has Danny's strength to lean on. Danny's support to keep him upright throughout. And he has never been more grateful in his life._

Rusty comes back to himself. He pushes the memory away and locks it down. Not helpful. Not in the slightest. He sighs. He can't quite believe that Bryn's still interested after all this time but he is. Rusty knew it the second he saw his eyes. And it makes his skin crawl.

* * *

As promised, Bryn is waiting for them at check-in and proffers the tickets he's bought in Rusty's direction.

"No need," Danny says, flashing their own and Bryn chuckles.

"What did you think? I'd only buy two seats?" He smiles at Rusty. "That would have been an idea. You could have sat on my lap."

Rusty smiles back. "That would have been fun when it came to meal time."

"Oh, believe me, it would certainly have whetted my appetite."

Danny bares his teeth. "You been practising?"

"Little bit," Bryn bares his teeth back at him.

In timely fashion, they call the flight number.

"Shall we?" Rusty suggests.

* * *

They are sitting apart from Bryn but once the seatbelt sign has gone off, it doesn't stop him visiting. He drops to one knee beside Rusty's aisle seat.

"Fancy joining the Mile High Club?"

Rusty sighs apologetically. "Already a member, Bryn. First-class, Business and Economy."

"Doesn't surprise me in the slightest."

"Excuse me, sir," says the stewardess. "You're blocking the aisle. Can you please return to your seat."

Bryn does so and Danny bestows a warm smile on the woman responsible who carries on her way a little more flustered than she would like to admit.

Rusty looks at him with amusement and then the grin fades as he sees Danny's clenched fist. He closes his hand over Danny's and gives it a gentle squeeze.

"Let's remember why we're doing this."

"I know," Danny sighs.

_It's not going to get any better._

_I know. _

And neither of them needs to voice the worry that it is going to get a hell of a lot worse.


	4. Keep your friends close

An Unholy Alliance by InSilva

Disclaimer: Danny and Rusty do not belong to me. Except imminently in art form but that's another story.

A/N: thanks as ever to otherhawk for the pre-read. Appreciated.

Chapter Four: Keep your friends close…

* * *

None of them are travelling under their actual names. For Danny and Rusty, it is a matter of habit and for Bryn, a matter of necessity. Eight and a half years is still looked on sternly in many places.

Allowing for time differences, it's a little after nine in the morning when their plane lands. There is no sign of Bryn as they disembark but he is waiting for them at the baggage carousel.

"Yours, I believe," he says, holding out Rusty's holdall.

Rusty reaches out for it but Danny is quicker.

"Thanks." He scoops his own off as it goes by.

"Let's go and find a cab," Bryn suggests. "Excelsior do you?"

"Any time," Rusty assures him.

"Thought so," Bryn says, "you always struck me as someone who likes the high life. Any time you can get it. Any way you can get it. And you know I'm always happy to oblige."

They both smile at Bryn and only they know for certain how hard they're both gritting their teeth.

* * *

They follow him through passport control and both of them manage to keep their expressions blank when Mr Grayson is asked the purpose of his visit and turns and looks at Rusty before answering "Strictly pleasure".

His eyes exclusively on Rusty's face, Bryn is silent in the cab. Danny and Rusty, on the other hand, look at each other and converse.

"So, the last time we were here was-"

"-cheese festival."

"Not the question." Amused.

"There was! With the wooden windmill-"

"-and the clogs." Conceding. "I was thinking more about-"

Dismissive. "-oh, that was nothing." At the look. "Well, it was something. I still think the cheese festival was more memorable."

_You would._

_Think it's working?_

_Not sure._

_He's still looking at me, isn't he?_

_Yeah…_

The conversation continues, vocal and otherwise. As the cab pulls up in front of the Excelsior, Bryn leans forward and says, "Cute". Then he climbs out of the car and they follow, half a pace behind.

_Cute?_

_When have we ever been cute?_

"Well, there was-"

"-that doesn't count!"

"-puppies and balloons and flowers and bubbles? How do _you_ define cute?"

The three of them reach reception.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" The receptionist asks, her teeth perfect and wholesomely white.

Danny's mouth hardens as they are all three mentioned in the same breath, as if they are…

"My friends and I need two rooms," Bryn explains. "A double and a single. Oh, I don't know." He pauses and smiles at Rusty. "Make it two doubles. I'm feeling lucky."

"Certainly, sir." The receptionist's efficiency fills the moment. "Would you like them adjoining?"

"No," Danny says firmly, a little louder than he should have done.

"Couple of floors apart would do nicely," Rusty says lazily, smiling at her and seeing the dazzle do the business.

Cards are swiped and keys are handed over and they head for the elevator.

"Room 707," Bryn says. "You think you can both remember that? In case you want to come and visit?"

"Undoubtedly," Danny promises.

"Well," and Bryn's glance falls on Rusty, "seven _is_ my lucky number. Shouldn't be hard to recollect."

Rusty stares at him, hearing exactly what he's saying, and Bryn's smile appears again.

"It might be a little hard," Bryn suggests as the elevator arrives and he walks in.

After the slightest of pauses, Rusty and then Danny enters.

"And your room is?"

_He has to know._

_Don't want him to._

_Just tell him._

"914," Danny says reluctantly and Bryn grins and settles against the back wall.

"What say we settle in and then I swing by?"

"What say we meet in the foyer in twenty minutes?" comes the counter-suggestion from Danny.

"Oh, but I want to check out your room. See whether your bed is bigger and better than mine. Bounce on it a couple of times."

"Foyer," Rusty says firmly and Bryn sighs in mock-disappointment.

The elevator approaches the fifth floor and in a swift movement, Bryn suddenly leans forward and breathes in—

What_ did he just do?_

"You know what? It even smells like sunshine."

Danny can't answer. His face is fighting to keep the repugnance under control.

"What?" Bryn wants to know. He holds his hands up. "No touching, right?"

The doors open and Bryn disappears without a backward glance, calling over his shoulder, "Foyer in twenty. Or I'll come looking."

* * *

Bryn pushes the door open to room 707, drops his bag on his bed and stretches. Oh, he's enjoyed himself. In fact, make that the present tense. The pair of them are tight, he can see that, but that's not new information. He can remember working that out way back.

_Time inside has its advantages. The disadvantages are obvious. Loss of power, loss of privilege, loss of freedom. But there is power to be had inside. There are privileges to be enjoyed. And there are some definite benefits to be found in introducing himself to young, blond inmates. Now he's been transferred to county jail, the new fish are even softer to the touch._

_He's always on the lookout for new games to play and as he enters the canteen, the blond hair in the lunch queue shines like a beacon. His eyes are drawn immediately to its owner and he blinks a couple of times. He can't be this lucky. But he is. He must have done something good in this life._

_It's him. It's the hustler. The one with the tight-fitting pants and the waxed chest and the full mouth. The one the week before his life turned upside down. The one who got away from him. He is here. He is here in a place that he can't run away from. He is here in a place where Bryn holds all the cards. _

_Then he sees the other. His partner. The dark-haired knight in shining armour who came galloping to his rescue. Still together. They sit down at a table and he can see them…what? Joking? Taking things lightly? Oh, things are going to change…_

"_Names," he snaps at Thorne. "What they're in for and for how long." _

_Thorne knows everyone and everything. Thorne follows his eyes and knows exactly whom he means._

_He revels in reintroducing himself to Mr Smith and Mr Bailey in the cell. Sex and violence. Everything he loves. When he leaves them to it, his mind is already working on exactly what he's got planned next. And it involves a lot of plea-bargaining._

_The summons to the warden's office is a surprise._

"_What you done, Bryn?" asks Harris, one of his tame guards. _

"_What have I done?" he wonders._

"_Some new fish. Beaten up. Did he fight back?"_

_He frowns and then he walks into the office and all things are explained. The blond with the marks on his face, holding himself upright awkwardly in a manner which suggests body blows. And Mr Bailey, the faithful partner… He pauses for a moment. __Mr Bailey has inflicted these injuries. Mr Bailey has beaten up his friend. Mr Bailey has…set him up. And he is suffering, Bryn can tell. He hasn't enjoyed it one little bit. Violence isn't the turn on it is for him. _

_His mind works quickly. They are close. He's seen that already. Good friends at least and lovers, he suspects, from the way they were looking at each other in the canteen, from the way they were side by side on the landing. There is definite chemistry and there is something more here than simply two men who enjoy working together. Well, that closeness must cut both ways._

_Mr Bailey is called forward to stand by the warden's desk to give evidence and as he does so, the phone rings. Bryn takes the opportunity to lean in to Mr Smith and whisper in his ear._

"_You like him enough to protect him, you tell the warden it's all a mistake. Say you fell down some stairs. Otherwise, I promise you your friend will meet the wrong side of my fists. Or if not my fists, someone else's. I don't like being inconvenienced. But I am willing to bet you don't want your friend inconvenienced enough not to be able to use cutlery for the rest of his life."_

"_Friend" he's said and he's ladled it with innuendo. And the threat has been expressed with biting menace. He has no doubt the blond believes him._

_He does. He takes back the story and Bryn watches with satisfaction the dark-haired man's incredulity. He rides the questions from the warden. He listens to Harris and Chapman back him up. He hears Bailey unwillingly retract his version of events. He walks out of there with his blood singing. Control. Power. Play. He feels alive._

It's how he feels now. And although the recovery of the diamonds is his priority, he wants that feeling to continue. He has no doubt it will.

* * *

As soon as the elevator starts to move, Rusty exhales and gives a shudder. Danny's face is pinched with anger. He sees the shudder and the tight little feeling inside works its way through him and explodes in a quiet but heartfelt "Fuck".

"Yeah." Rusty folds his arms and stares straight forward at the elevator doors, his expression stony.

Danny looks at him. They've only just started on this rescue mission and Bryn's only just started. He doesn't need to be Danny to see the tension in Rusty. He doesn't need to be Danny to see the rigid self-control. He does need to be Danny to offer the undying and the limitless and the indefinable. He stretches a hand out and squeezes Rusty's arm and Rusty flicks him a quick smile of acknowledgement.

_Don't you go anywhere._

_Not planning to._

* * *

Danny locks the door as soon as they are inside their room and Rusty flops down on the bed and stares blankly at the ceiling.

"You remember that time with Basher in London?" he says.

Danny, who is closing the curtains, thinks for a moment because really, there have been several times with Basher in London. Then he realises which occasion Rusty means.

"The broken-"

"-pipe-"

"-in the main sewer."

"Head to toe."

"Yeah." And Danny knows exactly what Rusty is getting at. "Felt a lot cleaner."

"Yeah." A pause and then Rusty swivels his head to look at his partner. "Actually…"

Danny's expression shifts slightly.

"I was-"

"It was-"

"-with you-"

"-just me and Bash who-"

"-and I got-"

"-got covered in…"

"-splashed-"

"Your shoe! Your left shoe!"

"There was some on both shoes," Danny clarifies.

"Both shoes? Bash and I went swimming and you're giving me both shoes?"

"You could have them," Danny nods. "I never wore them again."

He sits down on the bed beside Rusty and Rusty sighs. Because the normal, the _them,_ is intact and functioning as much as it ever was or is or will be. But just like in the cab, it's being overshadowed by Bryn.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight," Danny says and means it.

Rusty smiles slightly and turns his head and looks at him with affection.

"Not practical, Danny."

"I don't care."

"Not realistic, Danny."

"I don't care."

Rusty props himself up on one elbow. "You gonna follow me to the bathroom?"

Danny isn't smiling. "God, yes."

There is the fierce and the absolute and the unchanging and the unchangeable in Danny's face and Rusty feels the shield of emotion radiating outwards. It is unwavering and comforting and the biggest source of strength he could wish for and he acknowledges it with a smile of trust and belief and confidence. It is always there and it is two-way and it is boundless. This is what they are about. This is what makes them unbeatable. This is what makes them DannyandRusty with no gaps and no places for anyone to worm their way in between. Even Bryn. Especially Bryn.

Rusty stands up.

"I'm going to grab a quick shower. Need one."

Danny nods. Bryn clings worse than any unhappy accident of Basher's.

"I'll call Matsui. Arrange the meet. And tell him we're bringing someone he is not to see except in our company."

* * *

They are sat waiting in the foyer for Bryn and Danny thinks he has an analogy that works.

"This is going to be like that problem in math."

Rusty gives him a look of encouragement.

"The fox, the chicken and the sack of grain. You have to get them all across the river but you can't leave the fox with the chicken and you can't leave the chicken with the grain."

"Uh-huh. I knew there was a reason I didn't finish high school."

Danny ignores him.

"Bryn is just like some sort of repellent, devious fox. Actually, I'm a fox too, so there are two foxes and a chicken…" he tails off seeing the level look Rusty is giving him.

_What?_

"You're calling me a chicken."

"You're not a chicken," Danny agrees. And there is a pause before Danny's brain starts up again. "I'm the fox and Bryn's the chicken and you're-"

"I'm not that either."

"OK. We're three foxes…"

Rusty starts to chuckle and Danny sighs.

"That may have got away from me a bit."

_You think?_

Rusty straightens up. "Fox at two o'clock." And they get to their feet.

"So. We each have people to see." Bryn is no-nonsense. "How do you want to play this? Split up and report back?"

They've thought about this. And it is tempting, so very, very tempting to do just that. To give Bryn as wide a berth as possible and to conduct their own investigation and to not share information at all. But that way, they can't be sure they're hearing everything Bryn's hearing. And while there are no guarantees Bryn won't hide something from them and make his own enquiries, he's going to have less opportunity if they're with him. Added to which, the more they're with him, the less time Bryn is going to have to plan surprises.

"We go together," Rusty tells him.

"Like a burger and fries," Bryn agrees in a flash. "But back to business. What about approaching contacts?"

_Funny._

_Hilarious._

_I thought so._

And Rusty can't help the little hiss of breath that escapes him and he feels Danny tense beside him.

"What?" There is a sneer in Bryn's voice. "You think you're the only two people in the world who can do that? Oh, you're good. You're very good, I'll give you that. It's seamless and it's sometimes almost too fast to catch. But it isn't new. And I've been reading people since the pair of you were in diapers."

There is a moment and then…

"You _are _really old, aren't you?" Rusty says.

"Pushing retirement," Danny adds.

"Or death."

"Death. We like death."

"Natural causes."

"Or otherwise."

Bryn smiles lazily at them.

"Where are we going first, boys? Your place or mine?"

"Ours, old man," Rusty says firmly.

"Mmm. Yours. If only."

"Let's take you to a little bar we know," Danny suggests.

"Lead on," Bryn invites. "Let's start diamond-hunting."


	5. Making Contact

An Unholy Alliance by InSilva

Disclaimer: have no claims on any Ocean's character.

Chapter Five: Making Contact

* * *

Matsui doesn't change. Maybe he grows a little wider. Maybe his hair becomes ever more bouffant. But he doesn't change. As they walk through the door of the bar that he owns, he throws his arms out in welcome.

"Rusty! Danny! It's been too long!"

"It certainly has," Rusty agrees as he is enveloped in a fierce hug.

"How's Marisa?" Danny asks when it is his turn.

Matsui sighs heavily.

"Still enjoying the expensive things in life."

Danny nods in sympathy. Marisa has always been a caviar and fur coat kind of girl. She was when Matsui married her and nothing has changed.

Matsui stares expectantly at Bryn and Danny introduces them. Bryn reaches across and shakes Matsui's hand warmly.

"Delighted," he says and Rusty and Danny exchange glances. Bryn is on his best behaviour.

"Come on through," Matsui insists. "I laid on a little food. I didn't know if you'd eaten or not and then," and here, he digs his elbow into Rusty's ribs, "I thought it doesn't really matter either way."

He leads the way through to the back with a large sofa and two easy chairs facing and between them a table laden with cold meats and cheeses and croissants and jams.

"Bettina." Matsui summons one of his staff over. "Two coffees, a chocolate and…" he looks expectantly at Bryn.

"Coffee would be lovely," Bryn smiles guilelessly.

Bryn takes a seat in the middle of the sofa and Danny stares at him till with an unashamed grin, he shifts up. Danny sits next to him and Rusty takes the easy chair opposite Danny.

"Help yourselves," Matsui beams waving a hand over the largesse on offer.

Danny and Rusty look at each other for an instant. Offend Matsui – really offend Matsui – or break bread with Bryn? Rusty can feel Bryn's eyes on him. Amused. Mocking. He reaches out and picks up a plate and starts loading food on it. Danny gives the slightest of nods and follows suit. Bryn picks up a croissant and breaks the end off, slowly chewing.

"Thanks, Matsui," Rusty says.

"It's very welcome," Danny adds.

"I am very grateful," Bryn supplies.

"It's nothing." Matsui waves a hand magnanimously as the drinks arrive.

"We need some information," Danny begins. "Saul Bloom is missing and we know he was in Amsterdam a few days ago. We wondered if you had any idea…"

"Saul, Saul," Matsui sips his coffee and nods. "Missing is very not good news. Yes, I saw him maybe six days ago?"

"Six?" Rusty drinks his chocolate and automatically flicks his tongue out to lick away the froth residue at the side of his mouth. As he does so, he sees Bryn watching, eyes bright, and he stops at once, wiping it away with his fingers instead.

"Six," Matsui is definite. "It was my sister's daughter's tenth birthday and I was glad to escape the party. Honestly. Girls grow up so quickly nowadays. Only last year she was pestering for a pony. This year, she wants singing lessons."

"Did she get them?" Bryn asks politely.

Matsui grins. "She needs them."

"Did she get the pony?" Bryn smiles back at him.

This time, Matsui roars. "She lives on a houseboat. That was one present that was never going to happen. Unless the pony knew how to swim."

Bryn chuckles with him.

"Saul," Danny reminds Matsui gently.

"Saul," he nods. "Bumped into him outside my dentist. Took him for a coffee and to catch up on gossip. You two were mentioned frequently."

_All good, I hope._

_Hope about has it - damn!_

Rusty's eyes narrow for a second and then he too realises. Damn indeed. It's a habit and it's useful and more than that, it's become natural. And he can't envisage not communicating with Danny in this way. They've been doing it for too long, it's a shorthand they each rely on and not to do it would be like cutting out their tongues. Still… He glances at Bryn and sees the smirk and bites his lip.

"Did Saul say anything about what he was doing or where he was headed?" Danny asks and Rusty hears and understands the faint irritation which has nothing to do with the overt conversation.

Matsui looks thoughtful. "He had something on. That much I know. And it needed some prep work. He was off to walk the routes." He sighs regretfully. "I am sorry, boys. I know nothing more. But I will ask for you. If anything comes to light…"

"He was here as a courier," Rusty remarks and Matsui's expression changes, grows sharper, more acute.

"Diamonds?" and as they all nod, "Interesting. I'll put out some enquiries. Where are you staying?"

"Excelsior," Danny says and gives their false names.

"Good. If I find anything out I'll be in touch."

"Thank you, you've been very kind." Bryn gets to his feet and holds out a hand. "And it's been wonderful to meet you."

With a pleased look on his face that his efforts as host have not gone unappreciated, Matsui shakes Bryn's hand. Rusty and Danny stand up too and say their farewells. Bryn leads the way back out on to the street and Matsui catches Rusty by the elbow.

"This Bryn Gower is not such a bad chap, I'm thinking."

Danny overhears and turns, his face as unsmiling as Rusty can remember.

"He is a dangerous creature, Matsui. Do not trust him."

Suitably chastened, Matsui nods. Rusty pats his hand.

"We'll see you soon," he says.

"Do not leave it so long!" Matsui insists and they smile that they will try their best not to.

* * *

"Where to?" Danny asks tersely.

Bryn is resting against a wall and staring up at the sky and he says nothing.

"Where to?" Rusty repeats and this time, Bryn's gaze falls down on him.

"Some use your contact is," he says scathingly. "I hope that isn't a sign of how practical your company is going to be."

Rusty can feel himself bristling because Matsui is an excellent source of information. And he will come good, Rusty is sure. What he doesn't know, he will find out.

"Not that it wasn't worth it," Bryn adds in a silkier voice. "For the tongue action alone."

He can feel the flush rising and he quells it. He will not give Bryn more ammunition to play with if he can help it.

"Where are we headed?" Danny snaps.

"We're going to have a little chat with an old friend of mine. Who is going to be very surprised to see me."

* * *

Bryn takes them slightly out of the main part of the city and they find themselves in an apartment complex.

"Mostly empty during the day," Bryn explains. "Inhabited by the industrious. And the indolent."

There is a basketball court and a man, tall and thin and in his thirties, is shooting hoops. Bryn speeds up and reaches the court first, slightly ahead of Rusty who also steps through on to the court. As Danny makes to follow, Bryn slams the door to the court shut and snaps its padlock in place, pocketing the key.

"What the-?"

Danny's exclamation makes Rusty spin on his heel and the pair of them stare through wire fence at each other.

"Hey!"

Rusty yells sharply after Bryn but Bryn isn't listening. Bryn is heading towards the man who is still concentrating on the hoop, the man who, Rusty realises, is wearing headphones and a Walkman.

The wire is too close together for Danny to reach through and get a grip on the padlock but Rusty ignores his snarl of frustration because Bryn isn't stopping and his hand reaches out and spins the man round by his shoulder.

"Michael."

The man drops the basketball and looks in horror at Bryn.

"Mr Gower! Mr Gower! Sir!"

"That's right. And don't you forget it!"

Bryn pulls back his fist and crashes a blow into Michael's face that sends him sprawling to the court, headphones and Walkman flying.

"No!" It's a joint shout and both of them are sprinting towards Bryn.

"Need some information, Michael. Hoping you can help me."

Michael's eyes are darting all over the place. At the locked door at the other end of the court. At Danny, the other side of the fence, clutching the wire and looking aghast. At Rusty who has pulled up short a couple of paces away and who is looking uncertainly between Bryn and Michael.

"Some diamonds have gone missing from the outfit," Bryn goes on. "Need to know details. Need you to tell me."

"I don't know! I don't know anything, Mr Gower!"

"On your feet, Michael, and don't bother lying to me. You know every single thing that goes on in the organisation. Hell, you even start rumours off to see where they end up." Bryn strides forward and reaches down and hauls Michael upright. "Tell me."

He lands another punch that launches Michael backwards.

"Please!" Michael's mouth is bleeding, and scared, he looks up at Bryn. "Please, Mr Gower!"

"Please may you have some more? Certainly."

He starts towards Michael again but Rusty steps into his path.

"No."

Bryn looks down at the hand, placed flat against his chest and a slow grin lights his face.

"Rusty!" Danny sounds as horrified as Rusty is feeling.

Bryn goes to move forward but Rusty stands firm.

"I said "No"."

The grin acquires a dangerous edge. "Like that is ever going to stop me."

"I mean it," Rusty says in a low voice and tries not to think about how Bryn's chest is rising and falling under his hand.

"Look. You can sit down for coffee and croissants with your contacts. This is how I get information from mine. And unless you want to break your hand trying to punch me out, you'll get out of my way."

Slowly, Rusty takes his hand away and steps to one side and Bryn nods.

"There's a bright boy. Not just a pretty face, are you, Rusty?"

As he advances on Michael, Rusty's fist connects with his jaw. It's a hard blow and it's driven by all the anger Rusty's felt at his treatment at Bryn's hands. It's enough to stop Bryn and make him shake his head to clear it. He looks at Rusty with what might be respect but what Rusty knows is pure calculation.

"Well, aren't you the dark horse?" he says, rubbing his jaw. He chuckles and as Michael starts to join in nervously. "You have nothing to laugh about."

Before Rusty can do a thing, he flings himself forward like a big cat after its prey and seizes Michael, raining down blows on his body and head and rolling with him, slamming his head down on the ground.

"Don't you dare, Rus!" Danny cries out, circling round.

Rusty can't get between them. Not without…not without…he swallows. And then as he ignores Danny's howl of frustration and reaches out to pull Bryn off, Michael starts speaking, his face pressed to the basketball court and both Rusty and Danny freeze.

"The diamonds were taken last Friday. Smuggled out and passed on. They discovered they were taken almost immediately. They gave chase and the man who had them caught a train to Berlin. They went after him. Didn't catch up with him by the time they reached Berlin but he was seen boarding a train to Kiev. They went after him again but they didn't find him. And they searched the whole train. They found nothing. They found nothing. Please, Mr Gower, that's all I know. Please."

Bryn stands up. "It had better be, Michael. Because if I should learn you've been holding out on me, then I will not be pleased. Do you understand?"

Rusty looks down at Michael, cowering at Bryn's feet and grimaces.

"I do, Mr Gower, and I would tell you. I would tell you if I knew any more."

"Good." Bryn turns to Rusty. "Let's go."

Rusty trails after him. Bryn exits the court, ignoring the look Danny is throwing him. Danny's attention switches immediately to Rusty.

"You damn fool," he mutters as they follow Bryn up the path.

"It was necessary."

"It was stupid."

"It was stupid," Bryn calls out in agreement. "If I'd had you in there with me, Danny-boy, I'd now be at liberty to use my hands much more creatively."

Danny scowls at Bryn's back and Rusty's mouth sets in a grim line. Bryn's been calling the shots all day. They ought to be more in control. They ought to be using what they've got more effectively. And they both know it.

* * *

"Lunch," Bryn announces and indicates a café.

"Oh, come on," he says, seeing the looks on their faces. "I don't bite. Unless roused. Besides. We need to decide what we're doing next. And I don't want to do that on an empty stomach."

_He's-_

"I know."

And reluctantly, they sit down for a meal with Bryn Gower.


	6. History

An Unholy Alliance by InSilva

A/N: oh, look, I'm still shaking over "Dominoes". Let me reassure you this is a whole lot tamer. :)

Chapter Six: History

* * *

The café isn't that busy. There's a table by the window and the waitress has taken their order and really the only thing dampening both Danny and Rusty's appetite is the company they're keeping.

Bryn studies the blood on his knuckles with interest.

"I'm going to go and get cleaned up," he announces and looks over at Rusty sitting opposite. "You gonna come wash up too? How's your fist?"

"How's your face?" comes the rapid-fire retort and Bryn smiles at him.

"Some places that's considered foreplay, you know." He rubs his jaw thoughtfully and heads to the bathroom.

Danny watches him go and then turns to Rusty beside him.

"Seriously, how is your-"

"Hurts like fuck." He flexes his hand. "Bastard's made of granite."

Danny shakes his head at him.

"Oh, don't give me that. You'd have done the same. Well…"

Well…that isn't strictly true and they both know it. Because Danny would have got in the way of Bryn's fists but he wouldn't have fought back. Not with the consequences of doing so.

Danny sees Rusty looking with distaste at his other hand, at the hand that has touched Bryn and he sees the tension rising, palpable. He reaches over and deliberately wraps his fingers round Rusty's tightly.

_Come on…come on…_

Rusty's mastering it, driving it down. Eventually, he nods and Danny releases his hand.

"Train to Kiev."

"Yeah. Think Matsui could-"

"-he can."

And that's good news because it will mean results and less time that they have to spend with Bryn. Even walking round the city with him today has been difficult in the extreme. Conversation has been sparse because Bryn's contributions have been mostly taunts and they've tried to keep the unspoken down to a minimum too. It's not been easy.

Food arrives and so does Bryn, sliding into his seat behind his blue steak.

"Nice and juicy," he nods approvingly, cutting into it and seeing the blood run. He looks over at Danny's stew. "I'd say I don't fancy yours much but we both know I'd be lying."

Rusty bites into his burger and masks a sigh. Because the relentless barrage is draining. He feels it and he knows Danny does too.

"Tell us about the outfit," Danny says firmly.

Bryn shrugs and talks and eats.

"It's rich, it's powerful, it's tight. Works out of the US and France. Money comes off the back of various ventures. Arms to Africa's top of the list. But there's the usual. Drugs. Sex. Rock'n'roll. Headed by three men who tolerate each other. Each has their own little following and each has their preferred way of storing wealth. Cussons likes art. Bossuet likes gold. Henri Michel Dubois likes jewels."

"Diamonds are Henri's." Danny gets it.

"Undoubtedly. And Henri will not be happy they are missing. First thing he's going to think of is that Cussons or Bossuet is behind it or that they both are." Bryn gives another shrug. "They tolerate each other. They don't like each other."

"What'll he do?" Rusty asks.

"He'll draw up battlelines and man the defences and then start asking questions. Which is all good news for us. Because while he's focused on the inside, he won't be looking outside."

Bryn pauses to chew a piece of meat.

"We need to follow that trail. I say we pick up a train to Kiev and start looking for your friend. Although he's stupid enough to be sloppy, it seems he was smart enough to realise he was being followed."

They both bite their lip at the slight against Saul.

"No," Danny replies eventually. "We sit tight and we share this with Matsui first."

"We sit tight and the diamonds are getting further away."

"Matsui can save us time and effort. Besides which, he has more contacts across Europe than you can imagine. If Saul has gone to Russia, he'll find out about it."

Bryn takes a sip of coffee and considers.

"Added to which," Rusty expands, "I don't think we're finished in Amsterdam."

Bryn nods slowly. "You may be right. I'll go back and talk to Michael."

"No." This from Danny.

"Oh, I won't need to hit him this time," Bryn smiles. "Not to make him talk. And Michael and I go way back. Time was I used to run with this outfit. Did a number of jobs for them. Made the three of them rich. Spent some time working out of Amsterdam. Such a permissive city. One of my favourites. That's when I met Michael. Made a little call this morning to check up on him and he's still the same. Still spends his nights running communications and his days dreaming of playing for the NBA. Yeah, he hasn't altered. Well…" he pauses and then smiles again. "I guess he doesn't dye his hair any more."

Rusty stops chewing and Danny keeps the revulsion off his face with difficulty. Bryn looks sideways at Rusty.

"Don't imagine that'll save you. I'd take you even if you were bald."

Rusty starts chewing again and tries not to give in to thoughts of what injuries he might cause if he could get his hands on Bryn's steak knife.

"You used to run with them…" Danny prompts and Bryn's face darkens.

"Yeah. Lived the high life in three different cities. Had a suite at three different hotels," he glances again at Rusty. "The one in Vegas had a lovely view of the Strip."

"It's getting really tired, Bryn," Rusty says.

"Not for me." He takes another swig of coffee. "One of the three set me up. One of the three sons of bitches set me up."

And now, Rusty wants the conversation to stop and so does Danny because they both realise now exactly who the outfit is and they both know the truth and it's important that Bryn doesn't dwell too long on this in their company. But Bryn is still speaking.

"One of them was slicing off chunks of money and to hide it, they planted a sizeable sum on me. Made it look like I was the one skimming." His mouth twists into a smile. "Because of that… well, between them they had enough to make sure I went away for a long time. Which is where we all met."

His eyes are back on Danny and this time they almost welcome the attack. Almost.

"Anyway. Don't tell me not to go after Michael. You can't tell me you're squeamish about getting physical. Not after the jail. Not after you used your fists on him."

There is silence and then Rusty sees Danny's chin lift a fraction. Bryn's gaze doesn't leave Danny's face.

"How did it feel, Danny-boy?" he asks. "Punching him? Hurting him? Did he cry out?"

Danny's face is still and Rusty finds himself biting his lip hard and hoping a man could shrivel up and die from wish alone.

"He wanted it, didn't he?" Bryn continues softly. "Begged you for it, didn't he? Asked you to hit him. Over and over…I could tell he likes it rough. Likes to be hurt. Likes the pain."

Colour has drained from Danny's face and Rusty is trying to think desperately of a way to shut Bryn up.

"Did you enjoy yourself, Danny? Splitting his face open? Burying blows into his body? Was it a guilty thrill? Did you find yourself getting ha-"

He is cut off by a jug of water thrown in his face and Rusty sees Danny exploit the moment to squeeze his eyes briefly shut in pain.

"Fingers slipped. Sorry," Rusty says with no apology in his voice whatsoever and then follows with an almost unvoiced "Sorry".

Bryn wipes the water off himself with a napkin and laughs quietly.

"Don't sweat it. I often need a cold shower when you're around."

Bryn's eyes are alive and dancing and there is…God, there is no end to this, Rusty realises. There is no end. And they need to find one.

* * *

Meal over, they stand outside the café and find dusk settling and street lights coming on. It's still officially the afternoon but it's the time of year.

"Rusty and I are going to head back to Matsui."

They need a break from Bryn and happily, he obliges with a shrug as he starts heading away from them.

"Where are you going?" Rusty calls after him and Danny wants to know the answer to that too. Because he's said he's going to talk to Michael again and they're going to have a problem if that's the case.

His teeth glinting in the street light, Bryn turns back and walks up to Rusty, standing well within his personal space. Rusty doesn't even flinch.

"I'm headed down towards Dam Square. To the Red Light District. To a couple of bars I know. Where I'm going to find someone blond," his eyes are on Rusty's hair, "and slim," they slide up Rusty's body, "and pretty." On Rusty's face. On Rusty's mouth. "Then I'm going to-"

"Shut up," Danny hisses.

Hands in his pockets, Bryn ignores him and circles Rusty, leaning in to address the back of Rusty's head.

"-I'm going to go and find a room and I am going to enjoy him. But don't worry. All the time I'm burying myself in his mouth…"

Danny can see Rusty's face. It's giving nothing away but every word of Bryn's is…every word of Bryn's is…

"…all the time I'm using his body…"

…reaching down inside of Rusty…

"…all the time my hands are on his shoulders…"

…and scraping across his soul…

"…all the time my fingers are tight in his hair…"

…and leaving behind the filth and the degradation…

"…all the time I'm with him…"

…just like before…just like before…

Bryn walks round to the front of Rusty and they stare unblinking at each other.

"…all the time I'm with him, I'll be thinking of you, Rusty. Only you."

"Shut the fuck up!" Danny says hoarsely and his face is tight with anger.

Bryn's gaze swivels to him standing impotently a few feet away and he smiles mirthlessly.

"Make me," he suggests, snapping out the words and Danny wants nothing more than to…

"We'll see you in the morning," Rusty says to Bryn, his voice steady, all emotion locked down.

Bryn's eyes travel back to Rusty.

"Breakfast," he confirms. "I'll be the one smiling."

And he saunters away, leaving fury and tight-lipped disgust in his wake.

* * *

Matsui greets them again with pleasure.

"I say not to leave it too long and you take me at my word. Very good."

"Saul caught a train from Berlin to Kiev," Danny explains.

"He didn't get off the other end."

"They searched the whole train."

"He disappeared en route."

Matsui holds up a hand. "I'll find out."

And his reputation is such that they know if he can, he will.

* * *

Dinner is almost pleasant. Saul's still missing and they're not that much further forward but at least they can relax, at least the tension is less and they realise how oppressive Bryn's presence is.

Danny checks the three hairs in place on the door and satisfied, takes away the "Do not disturb" sign. No one has been in their room. They kick off their shoes and fall on the bed and skim the cable before tiredness overwhelms them and they finish up lying in bed side by side and staring at the ceiling.

"How do you think Saul's doing?" Rusty asks.

"He's tough."

"He is."

"We learnt what tough is from him."

"We did."

Silence.

"We've got to find him, Danny."

"We will."

* * *

_The door to the basketball court slams shut and Danny is left standing outside, black wire separating him from Rusty and Bryn. Words catch in the back of his throat. Fear rises up inside him. He needs to get in there. He needs to get to Rusty. He needs to… His fingers claw through the wire at the padlock, clamped shut on the wrong side of the door. The fence looms above him, tall and unclimbable._

"_No."_

_He is level with them and he sees Rusty's hand on Bryn's chest and he can only imagine the strength and the grit and the stubborn need to protect the underdog driving Rusty to touch Bryn, to let his fingers come into contact with… He wants to scream. He wants to tear Rusty away from there and…_

"_I said "No"." _

"_Like that is ever going to stop me."_

_And then Bryn launches himself at Rusty, and they roll to the ground and Bryn is punching and punching and drawing blood and Danny's insides clench and he moans and closes his eyes._

_When he opens them, he wants to close them again. He is the one on top of Rusty. He is the one hitting and hurting. He is the one using his fists. He is the one looking down at Rusty bleeding and bruised and cowering and he is responsible. He is responsible…he is…_

"Hey!"

Rusty's hand is on his shoulder and he is shaking him awake. Danny blinks at him and then screws his face up in pain.

"Danny..."

"Rus, I…Rus…"

"It's OK, Danny, it's OK…"

Rusty pulls him to him and holds him tight as the trembling starts. His arms feel strong and block out the world and Danny gradually relaxes, the shaking gradually stops.

"Basketball court," Danny says flatly. "You were playing Michael and I was playing Bryn."

The memory of the plan in jail that didn't work hangs in the air between them and Rusty's arms tighten.

"It wasn't your-"

"It was _all_ my-"

"You did it to protect-"

"It felt like hell."

And Rusty says nothing because positions reversed, it would feel that way too.

"It felt like hell – it _feels_ like hell - and it was for nothing. And Bryn knows."

"Bryn knows," Rusty agrees, his mouth twisting.

Danny sits up and pulls free and puts the light on.

"Bryn knows what to say and do to hurt us. He isn't going to stop. He isn't going to back down. And all the time we eat with him and talk with him and work with him, he is learning and scheming and plotting and he frightens me, Rusty. He frightens me so much."

He reaches out and squeezes Rusty's arm.

"I can't even think. I can't even plan. Because all I want to do is get you away from him. And all I want to do to him is hit and hit and hit until he stops moving. God, Rusty. I'm useless. I'm so useless. And Saul… What the fuck help am I going to be to him? What the fuck help am I going to be to you?"

Rusty isn't having any of it.

"Listen to me, Danny. You push it away. You push all the lies and the slime away. So will I. You and I. We're strong enough to do this. We've got each other. We're together. We can do anything. We're better than Bryn."

And it's true. It's always true. Together they see constellations where others see only bright lights in the sky. Danny nods and exhales slowly.

Rusty hesitates for a moment and then he says, "I think we'd deal better with him separately."

"Not happening." Danny is definite.

"Listen to me," and Rusty is at his persuasive best. "It kills me to hear him dig at you. It kills you to hear him dig at me. We can handle it better separately."

"Rus, you're not going to be on your own with him!"

"We split up. We use the numbers to our advantage. We cover more ground plus we have a break from him. We're still together. We can come back to each other at any time."

Danny's mind is thinking it through and he shakes his head.

"All the time I'm not there I'm going to want to be there. I'm going to _need _to be there. The only way to do this is-"

Rusty knows just what he's going to say and his heart sinks. "Fox and-"

"-sack of grain."

Rusty stares at him and he wants to argue, he wants to shout that he is going to be just as worried, but Danny is holding his gaze with level, dark eyes. Eyes that he trusts above all, above everything. And the eyes are telling him that all he, Danny, has to worry about are words and insinuations; Bryn's not going to be mentally undressing him with every look. Bryn's not interested in _him._

He sighs. "Just make sure you're the fox."


	7. Control

An Unholy Alliance by InSilva

Disclaimer: the boys aren't mine.

Chapter Seven: Control

* * *

Morning comes and Danny opens bleary eyes to see Rusty looking at him.

_You ready for this?_

_Absolutely._

* * *

As promised, Bryn is waiting for them at breakfast. As they stand in the queue waiting to be seated, Bryn spots them from the table where he is sitting and grins.

Danny sees Rusty, his mouth tight, looking at Bryn and then he sees Rusty's mouth tighten further and he follows his gaze. Bryn is sitting sipping coffee from a cup in his left hand and his right hand is…well, it's dunking a teabag in and out of a mug. Steadily. With rhythm. Bryn's eyes are smiling. Bryn is smiling. There's something…

He realises that Rusty is looking at him with affection and amusement.

_What?_

"Some terms just really pass you by, don't they?"

Before Danny can react, the waitress arrives and shows them in and Bryn grins.

"Come and join me, boys. Let's talk about what we do today."

"Drinks, sirs?" the waitress asks.

"They'll have a coffee and a chocolate," Bryn says on their behalf and smiles up at the waitress with a flash of charm. "Extra frothy chocolate."

Bryn is starting early. But today is going to be different.

"You want to…?" Rusty jerks his head and indicates the buffet behind him.

"You go grab me a plate," Danny suggests.

_Really?_

Because there is always the temptation to return with two plates of food that find more favour with Rusty than Danny.

_Really._

Rusty disappears and Danny sits down.

"Hope you had as pleasant an evening as I did, Danny. I'm fairly buzzing this morning."

He is. His eyes are full of life and there is a distinct aura of energy surrounding him. Danny does not want to think too hard about what's generated this and he pushes it to the back of his mind. Because today? Today is going to be different.

The waitress brings the drinks and Danny sips his coffee and Bryn sips his and they study each other in silence. Bryn is obviously intent on picking up where he left off and Danny smiles to himself. Because today is going to be different. Today, Danny is going to be his only company. And there will still be cracks and of course some of them will be directed at Rusty, but Rusty won't hear them. Rusty will be safe and away from the venom.

Rusty returns with a plateful of croissants and pains au chocolat in one hand and cold meats and cheese in the other.

"You brought me garlic puree again and you're in trouble."

"Only if you're planning on kissing anyone."

"Don't tempt me."

Danny butters a croissant and Rusty sips the chocolate and licks the froth away and tucks into the cheese and meat.

"So what do you reckon, Bryn?" Danny asks. "While we're waiting for Matsui to come back to us, I thought we should take a look at the building where the diamonds were housed."

"Check out the routes," Rusty nods. "See what Saul would see."

"Understand what happened."

"Know what went wrong."

"Find out who found out."

'_Cos there will be someone._

_Someone who saw._

_Someone inside._

"What do you reckon?"

Bryn nods slowly to himself.

"I think that's a good idea, Danny," he says thoughtfully, looking at both of them. "I can get us in."

"Good," Danny finishes the croissant. "Let's head there then."

Rusty drains the chocolate and runs his tongue over his lips.

"I'll see you both back here tonight."

"Where are you going?" Bryn asks sharply.

"Thought I'd check out the train station."

"The train station," Bryn repeats.

"Mmm. Check out the routes, see what Saul would see."

"He'd see trains."

Rusty shrugs. "Possibly."

Bryn sits back in his chair and looks at Danny through narrowed eyes.

"Just you and me then, Danny."

"I guess," Danny agrees cheerfully.

"Think you can handle the excitement?" Bryn asks, a half-grin playing round his lips.

"Bring it on," Danny replies, his own smile forming.

* * *

Rusty is not headed for the train station. Rusty is headed for the apartment complex they visited yesterday. Rusty is accompanied by a much-needed supply of chocolate and some patience. He's not certain Michael is going to show up on the basketball court again, not after yesterday, but he's willing to wait and see. And if not, he's planning on knocking on doors till he finds him. Because although he hates the fact that Bryn has led them to him, Michael is the best lead they have.

* * *

Danny and Bryn are standing in front of a non-descript modern office building with nothing to mark it out from the other non-descript modern office buildings.

"Here? Really?" Danny puts just enough doubt in his voice.

It works.

"Really," Bryn snaps. "What, you think diamonds are housed in big fancy vaults with big fancy signs that say "Diamonds Kept Inside"? Have you seen De Beers in London?"

Yes, he has, actually. From the inside and the outside and he and Rusty have watched hundreds of people walk past it and not have a clue what lies within. He shrugs. Just to be annoying.

"Doesn't look all that."

"Let's get inside and you'll see." Bryn pulls out his phone and dials a number. "Hello? Is Mr van Brujin there? Thank you." There is a pause and then, "Mr van Brujin? Hello! You won't remember me but I met you at a sales fair last year. You said to look you up when I was in the area. Thomson. David Thomson. I'm here with my colleague, Andy Welch. Yes! That's right, the stationery company. Thank you."

He hangs up and looks at Danny. "Fool attends a hundred exhibitions and extends the same invitation to a million people. Come on."

They walk up the steps and are buzzed through security into a hall of steel and glass. It reminds Danny of Gerard's place apart from the fact that the guards are openly carrying guns. He sees the CCTV cameras trained on them and he concentrates on being relaxed and genial and everything a sales guy should be.

"Mr van Brujin!" Bryn's tone is warm and friendly and the middle-aged office manager who arrives in reception allows his hand to be grabbed and shaken and to be reminded of a fictional fair and made-up drinks in a bar and a make-believe insistence that Bryn's organisation would be able to carry out an audit and save money. He vouches for them and they are waved through.

There are low security areas and there are other areas that lay behind them which are more low-key and at the same time obviously more important. Danny's eyes are all over the doors and the code keys needed and his instincts tell him that these are not easily broken through, not easily circumvented.

Danny could see Rusty and him working the doors. Rusty would have found the codes; he would have charmed his way in; they would be through and in and out and away. But this was an inside job. Someone has taken the diamonds and delivered them to Saul. Had Saul got into the building and waited and been passed the jewels? Had he waited outside? Both ways were risky. And who? Who has worked the inside?

* * *

It is heading towards noon and Rusty is sitting on the wall in the shadows just wondering about lunch when he sees him, bruises on his face, bouncing the basketball along the path in front of him, eyes on the ground. Rusty stands up as he draws near.

"Michael…?"

Michael's head shoots up. He sees Rusty and freezes for a split second. Then he drops the ball, turns and runs. Rusty curses and gives chase, heading up flights of stairs, gaining on him with every stride. Michael rounds a corner and fishes out keys and stares with terror at Rusty pounding down the corridor after him. Then the door opens and Michael dives inside and the door is closing and with a final burst of speed, Rusty gets a foot in the way.

"Michael," he panted, "Michael, it's OK, I'm not going to hurt you, I'm not-"

He pushes the door ajar and stands looking in. It is a studio apartment, everything in the one room with what he presumes is a little bathroom off. There is a sink and a fridge and a hob in the corner and a couch and a table and the bed is obviously up inside the wall. The wall that Michael is backed up against, eyes wide, fear in his face.

Rusty concentrates on making himself as least threatening as possible.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Michael, really I'm not. I just want to ask you some questions. Please. Please may I come in."

Michael swallows and his eyes are over Rusty's shoulder.

"He's not here, Michael, I'm on my own. My name's Rusty Ryan. Please can I talk to you?"

"You were with him," Michael says with a faint accent. Oklahoma, Rusty would have guessed. "You-you were with him."

Rusty winces at the fact that he is connected to Bryn in any way.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Michael," Rusty says again patiently, "that's not who I am."

There's a moment and then Michael says, "You told him no."

"I did."

"You-you tried to stop him."

"I did."

"You hit him."

"That's right."

Michael makes his mind up. "Come on in."

Shutting the door behind him, Rusty enters and sits down on one end of the couch, Michael taking a seat at the other end.

"You're not like him."

"No, I'm not."

"Then, what are you doing with him?"

"I'm trying to find a friend of mine. Danny – that's the man who was the other side of the fence – and I, we know the man the diamonds were passed to. The man who got on the train. Now he's missing and we need to find him. That's why we're with Bryn. The only reason we're with Bryn."

Michael looks at him and looks for the truth and as that is all that Rusty is selling, it's easy to find. He relaxes ever so slightly and so does Rusty.

"I'm sorry I couldn't stop him yesterday, Michael," he says sincerely.

"S'alright," Michael shrugs. "It was just a shock. I haven't seen him in nearly a decade. He used to be based in Amsterdam and he and I…" He looks up at Rusty and he flushes.

Rusty wants to make it easier on him but Michael is speaking again.

"He…he and I…" Michael breaks off and looks at Rusty. "You know. You must do. I mean you're so his type it's untrue."

Something in Rusty's face leads Michael to the truth.

"He hasn't? Seriously? Oh, he has to have tried! He must want to!"

"He's tried," Rusty says shortly. "He wants to."

"Run away," Michael tells him earnestly. "Don't let him near you, Rusty. He's…he's…"

He breaks off and sits there miserably and Rusty wants to tell him that he feels he knows exactly what he's trying to say. Because Bryn is. Absolutely.

"Michael. Can you tell me anything more about what happened? Anything more that will help me find my friend?"

There's a moment of hesitation and then Michael begins to talk. He works, as Bryn has said, in communications for the outfit. The outfit has offices all over the place but Amsterdam is significant for housing Henri Michel Dubois's items of significant worth as well as being the communications centre. M Dubois himself lives between here and Paris.

Michael came on shift to find uproar and guards and searches and he didn't find out why until a little later when he and the two guys he works with were allowed to sit in their office. There is no need to speculate when your job description includes monitoring calls.

"Whoever took them knew what they were doing," he advises. "M Dubois was very, very upset."

"Why?" Rusty can't imagine diamonds which after all are strictly a commodity producing an emotional reaction unless they were special, unless they were prized jewels… "Were the diamonds unique?"

"In one way," Michael nods. He hesitates for a moment and Rusty smiles encouragingly and then he whispers, "They weren't the only thing that was stolen."

* * *

Andy and David have shaken hands again with Mr van Brujin and promised to get some figures over to him and are now sitting at a café opposite, pondering.

"It's a tight set up," Danny says. "Whoever it was moved quickly to get the diamonds out of there."

He turns to Bryn. "Surely Gerard knows who it is?"

Bryn shakes his head. "Gerard was contacted and offered the jewels. He wired money and he sent Saul."

"That's not like Gerard," Danny frowns. "It's far too careless. Unless he had assurances. If there was someone who could vouch for the inside man… And how did the guy get them out of there anyway? In his pocket? Is it that easy?"

He feels Bryn watching him work through the possibilities. Bryn has been quiet for Bryn. There have been a handful of barbed comments but Danny has just raised an eyebrow and they have died away. It seems that Bryn has decided to sit back and let Danny go.

Danny frowns to himself again and wonders how in the world he hasn't asked the question before. Granted it's only been a couple of days, granted that his main focus has been Bryn, but not to have asked the question is not only unforgivable, it is stupid.

"How many diamonds are we talking?" Because he's thought of a necklace or a handful of big stones but if instead…

"Three," Bryn says in disbelief. "Didn't Gerard tell you?"

"We never got that far."

Bryn shakes his head. "Amateur," he says contemptuously. "What were you going to do? Find your friend and ask him what he stole?"

Yes, actually, that was probably what their default plan was. And Bryn's name-calling hurts but it's accurate and that stings more.

"How big?"

Bryn shrugs. "Not that big."

"Then what makes them so special?"

* * *

"They're black diamonds," Michael says. "Well, two of them are. They're camouflage for the third."

"What's the third?" Rusty wonders.

"It's not a diamond at all. It's manmade and it's got a microdot in the centre."

Microdot? Rusty suddenly feels he's in a James Bond movie. Or an episode of "The Man from UNCLE" at least.

"The microdot has got all, absolutely all of M Dubois's confidential information on it. His contacts, his bank account numbers, everything."

Rusty stares at him. "Why?"

* * *

"Dubois is a control freak and also paranoid beyond reason," Bryn says. "He doesn't trust anyone. He enters passwords wrongly on purpose in case anyone is watching. He takes three goes to open a safe even though he knows the combination. Man is bordering on clinical."

"If he's that compulsive, why doesn't he-?"

"He used to wear the diamond in a ring on his finger. Made him feel safe. Then he worried that the stone was going to fall out. Made him feel less than safe. So he locked it up."

* * *

"Huh."

Michael shrugs. "It's been safe up until now."

"Bet he's going mad."

"Mad about has it," Michael nods. "Like I said, he's really upset."

His stomach rumbles and he blushes. "Do you mind if we have something to eat?"

Rusty grins. "Not at all."

* * *

Danny thinks he has it straight in his head.

"Someone's after Dubois. They hide behind Gerard and arrange the robbery and…" _Oh, it has to be… "_Gerard was never going to get those diamonds. _His_ money and _his _courier and traced back to him but those diamonds were going to be intercepted. Gerard was set up. Saul was set up."

Anger grips him and for a moment, he forgets his audience. "Saul was set up. They were going to pick him up and take the diamonds and…" His mouth twists.

"But Saul is smart," he goes on. "Saul knew he was being followed and he got away."

"Where did he go?" Bryn asks.

"Well, I guess that's what we need to find out."

* * *

They have eaten and they have gone back down to the basketball court and Rusty is shooting a few hoops.

"You've got a good eye," Michael praises.

"Thanks." Rusty puts another one through. "What are you doing over here, Michael?"

"Just killing time, I guess. Came over after college and stayed. Somehow I never got round to going home again."

Rusty hands the ball to him but doesn't let go.

"I need your help, Michael. To find my friend. Would you be able to help me?"

Michael looks at him and Rusty can see several thoughts running through him about whether or not to say yes. His employer and Bryn are the two major ones but Rusty has been sincere and open and has made himself dependent on Michael's assistance and more than that, has asked Michael: he doubts whether anyone has bothered asking Michael in a long time.

"Alright," Michael whispers eventually and is rewarded by a dazzling grin.

* * *

"So who wants to get Dubois?"

Bryn exhales. "Man's got a list of enemies long as your arm."

"But enemies with imagination and access and contacts?"

"Can only be one of the others. Cussons or Bossuet. They're the only names big enough."

"Well, we need to find out who. Because that's how we find Saul."

"And the diamonds."

* * *

"If you like," Michael says shyly, "I could show you where I work. The other guys come on shift about ten and you'd have to leave then but I handle the six to ten shift on my own."

"Thanks, I'd love to," Rusty beams and then steps away. "I just need to make a call."

Danny answers on the second ring.

"How you doing?"

"Fine." And even in that one word, Rusty can hear that he is. Danny is in complete control and the part of Rusty that has, throughout his conversation with Michael, been uptight and fearful, relaxes: the whole of Rusty that trusts Danny implicitly is glad he thought of splitting them up.

"I'm with Magic. He's offered to show me his place of work. I don't want you worried and I don't want you waiting up. Oh, and the diamonds?"

"Red herring. Microdot. Information beyond price."

_Huh._

"You just need to ask the right questions."

"I can smell the smugness from here." Pause. "You gonna be alright?"

"Yeah. Later."

Danny rings off and stares at Bryn.

"Right. I want to know everything and I mean every thing you know about Cussons and Bossuet. Start talking."

* * *

Rusty plays the part of a gum-chewing IT contractor and is waved in by a guard who is focused on his TV and a football game, into the hub that Michael works from. It's next door to the main office building and security is practically non-existent.

"No one really knows we're here," Michael explains. "And no one much cares."

There are banks and banks of computer equipment and dials and buttons and Rusty looks at it in disbelief. How does any of it make sense?

"This is the main filter," Michael says pointing at a screen with lines and lines of data flowing up it. "All exchange of information is captured here."

"And you read this?" Rusty asks, frowning at the numbers and letters that are steadily streaming upwards.

"Oh, yes," Michael says happily. "It's easy when you know how."

Right. And good as he is at languages, Rusty can't even begin to make sense of the codes. He glances at Michael and smiles. Because at least he knows a native who can translate.

* * *

It is later.

Bryn has talked and talked and answered questions and Danny has a pretty good idea in his head about the sort of men Cussons and Bossuet are and the backgrounds they have. He has a clear picture of what their operations looked like eight and a half years ago and feels confident in the projections he can make. Neither of them are men you want to be up against. Neither of them has got to the positions they've got to by being kind and gentle.

Danny and Bryn have come back to the hotel and Bryn has gone up to his room while Danny has gone to the bar to order a drink. He's safe in the knowledge that it'll be two hours at least before Rusty is back in the hotel and he feels he needs some alcohol. Bryn has been subdued but he has still been Bryn and Danny will never forget what that means.

He sits at the corner of the bar, beside the roaring fire and sips his whisky and thinks. He's gained useful information today and he is certain Rusty isn't going to be coming back empty-handed either. With Matsui on the case as well, he feels that at least they have made a decent start on finding Saul.

His thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of Bryn who orders a whisky and sits beside him.

"Well, today was different," Bryn says. "Without Rusty tagging along."

Danny smiles idly and doesn't rise to the bait.

"How did he get on at the train station?"

Shrugs. "He saw trains."

Bryn stares at him hard and then chuckles and when he opens his mouth again, the poison starts to fall out.

"You know, he surprised me yesterday. I thought he might be a little meek and docile. Obedient. I could see him being…mmm…eager to please."

Danny studies his whisky.

"But that punch yesterday…he likes to struggle, doesn't he? He likes to be overpowered. Likes being restrained. And forced. The feeling of being held down. Hands on his wrists. Gives him a real kick. I bet you get off on that too."

Danny purses his lips and then looks at Bryn, lounging in the seat next to him. Danny considers for a moment and then he starts talking.

"There's part of me that feels almost sorry for you, Bryn."

"No need."

Danny ignores him.

"When you look at Rusty, all you see is meat. All you see is a man you want to trap. Beauty that you want to possess. Beauty that you want to break."

"That's about right."

"You are never going to see him look at you with laughter in his eyes. You're never going to know how magical it is to be in his company. How magical _he_ is."

Bryn is silent, the light from the fire licking across his face.

"But it's not just the fact that you won't ever, ever know the joy of knowing Rusty or being known by him. You are never going to have that relationship with anyone, Bryn. You are never going to have someone ready to take a bullet for you. You are never going to have someone there, always there, never denying, absolutely beside you, ready to take on the world with you."

Danny smiles as Bryn continues to sit wordlessly.

"You have people look at you with fear and you tell yourself it's respect. You use your fists and you think it makes you a man." He shakes his head. "Rusty is worth a million of you. He is alive in a way you will never be. And if you ever lay a finger on him, two things are certain. One is that we would survive and the other is that you would not."

There is silence and Danny feels for the first time since Bryn walked in on them in Gerard's office that he is the one on the back foot. And then…

"You really care about him, I can tell."

"I do." Passionate and definite.

"You would do anything for him, wouldn't you?"

"Oh, I would." Fervent.

"Anything…?" Quiet. Waiting, just waiting…

"What?" Danny stops cold.

"Exactly. That's the question, isn't it? What would Danny do?"

_Anything. Anything. Oh, God…anything…_ He stares at Bryn.

Bryn's fingers move up to Danny's face and Danny knocks them away angrily. Bryn isn't deterred.

"Would you let me touch your hair?"

_Would he?_

"Your face?"

_Would he let him?_

"Would you let me kiss you?"

_He would._

"Would you let me inside your mouth?"

_He would let him._

"Would you let me inside you?"

_Rusty._

Bryn's eyes are unreadable. Danny can't tell if he means it. Any of it.

"Well…?"

"Yes…" Danny whispers. _God…_ "Yes…"

"Good boy, Danny…" Bryn approves.

His hand moves with purpose and Danny can feel his fingers running through his hair and it takes all his self-possession not to pull away. Bryn's fingers run around Danny's jaw and they burn a path on his flesh. Bryn grips Danny's chin and pulls Danny close.

"Little bit closer, Danny-boy." And Bryn leans in, his lips a breath away from Danny's.

"I think we might have some dominance issues to discuss, Danny."

He lets go of Danny and straightens up.

"My room. After you finish your drink. We can carry on the discussion there."

Bryn turns and leaves and Danny stares down at his whisky. Bryn is almost certainly lying. He knows it. But if there's a chance… He would do anything for Rusty. Really he would. Even this. _God…_ Even this. Because if anything happened to Rusty and he didn't do this, he'd never know if it was down to him.

He clenches his fists and then lets go of the anger, lets go of the loathing, lets go of the gnawing desire to get out of there and find Rusty and grab him and run. Danny empties his head of everything except the need to be as cold as ice.

Then he drains his glass and goes to find Bryn.


	8. Rusty and Danny

An Unholy Alliance by InSilva

Disclaimer: I just take them out of the toybox. And at the moment they're doing their best to hide from me.

A/N: apology needed. Probably.

Chapter Eight: Rusty and Danny

* * *

It's been a good day. Rusty definitely thinks it's been a good day. Michael has warmed to him and opened up and explained the base of operations. All threads of communication for the outfit pass through here: Michael has promised to listen and look out for references to Saul and the diamonds. He's going to be reporting back anyway for his bosses: it doesn't seem a hardship for him to copy Rusty in on the information.

And Rusty's had a day without Bryn. It's been liberating.

_Danny and he have lain and talked it through. They have not handled things well. Things have not been on their terms. Everything has been dictated by Bryn. And just like the jail, things have been accelerated. They've been pushed to the point where they can't even be themselves. And it's got to stop. It _has_ to stop. They have got to take charge._

_They're going to split up. Rusty's going to find Michael. Danny's going to brave Bryn. They are not going to be fazed. They are going to act normally. They are going to be DannyandRusty. Bryn knows how to exploit that but it is their strength. And they are going to use it. _

It's nearly eleven in the evening by the time he gets back and he heads up in the elevator, munching on something deep-fried and feeling satisfied, partly by the food but mostly by the feeling that they are on top. The conversation with Danny on the phone has been enough to reassure and to know that he was right. They can handle Bryn better when they're apart.

He finishes the fast food and opens the door to their room to find the light off and Danny laying in the bed in darkness. He pushes the door to and walks up to the bed because there's something…

Danny is lying on his side, faced away from the door and his breathing is regular and steady and he seems to be… Rusty walks round that side of the bed. He can just about make out Danny's eyes which are closed and his hair looks damp and flat against the pillow and he seems to be… But he's not. Rusty hasn't shared a thousand hotel rooms with Danny not to know when he's really asleep and when he isn't.

"Danny?" he whispers and then wonders why he's whispering. "Danny!" he says again.

He reaches out to put the side light on and Danny's hand catches his wrist.

"Don't."

It's whispered and there's so much wrapped up in that word and Rusty is suddenly frightened, frightened in a way he has never been frightened before.

"Danny…?"

Danny sits up rigidly and Rusty stares down through the half-darkness at him. Pretending to be asleep? There's a trace of angry disbelief in Rusty now because who exactly does Danny think he's trying to fool?

"Start talking, Danny."

But Danny says nothing and the anger melts and the fear returns a hundredfold. Rusty's hand shoots out and turns on the light and sees Danny's lip, bitten and bruised and bloody, and sees Danny's eyes…sees Danny's _eyes_…

"No…" It's drawn out and pained and Rusty feels the horror rising up in nauseous waves and he rocks on his feet, his hand clamped to his mouth.

Just because one of them has impossibly perfect powers of recall, just because the other has boundless capacity for vision doesn't mean that Danny can't remember, doesn't mean that Rusty can't imagine. And imagine is exactly what he's doing. Bryn's hands…Bryn's fingers…Bryn's mouth…Bryn's tongue…on Danny…on Danny…

"Rus, Rus," Danny reaches up and pulls him down to the bed and he sits on the edge, eyes wide, eyes on Danny, making broken little voiceless sobs, unable to articulate the horror seizing him.

"It's not-" Danny shakes his head frantically. "He didn't-"

But it is. It _is_. And if he didn't, he could have and if he didn't, he can, he _can._

"Danny…oh, Danny…"

"Rus, it's OK, it's OK." Danny's hands are on his arms.

_Like hell it is._

He fights to get the panic under control but every time he looks at Danny's face, it rises up again, and he can't find words, he can't express the anger and the terror and the agony, he can't verbalise a thing but Danny's eyes are talking him down, reassuring him…

Eventually, Rusty asks in a low voice, "What happened?"

Because Bryn will be using this tomorrow. And they need to be prepared.

Danny's hands drop down to the sheet and knot together and he studies them for the longest time and when the words come they're barely above a whisper.

"Asked me what I'd do."

For you. Two words that Danny doesn't need to say. Two words that Rusty hears and they cut right through him. And Bryn doesn't want Danny. It's not Danny who's the target here. But playing with Danny, touching Danny… Rusty's eyes screw up and then they open in shocked realisation of the obvious.

"You wouldn't fight back," he breathes and the pain is suffocating him, "Oh, you wouldn't _fight_…"

Danny still doesn't meet his eyes and Rusty gently tilts his face upwards so that they are looking at each other. Danny wouldn't fight back. Danny would stand and let Bryn… And he wouldn't hit him. Because if he hit him…

Out of the swirl of thoughts besieging him, he manages, "Tell me."

_He travels up in the elevator to room 707 and his lips twist into a bittersweet smile. The agreement allows for this, of course. Trust Bryn to work that out. Part of him is moving on autopilot, not quite believing this is happening, not quite believing that he's going to go through with this. But all he can think of is Rusty sitting in the darkness of a bathroom, shower running, scrubbing at himself like he'll never get clean again, rubbing and rubbing at his skin with a nailbrush, ruining his mouth with hard bristles, looking up at Danny…_

"I can still feel him."

_Lost. As far as away from himself as ever he was. _

_Not again. Not again. Not if he can do anything about it._

_Standing in his bathrobe, whisky in hand, Bryn lets him in with a smile and Danny knows he's been waiting for him. He can read it in every self-satisfied inch of Bryn. _

"_Lose your jacket, Danny. Make yourself comfortable," Bryn instructs as he empties the glass and puts it on the table, heading over towards the middle of the room, standing in front of the bed._

_Wordlessly, Danny shrugs his jacket off and drops it on a chair._

"_Come over here, Danny-boy."_

_Danny stands in front of Bryn and starts to think about a happier place to be._

_Bryn's fingers trace a path around Danny's throat and then he leans in and his mouth covers Danny's, his tongue hard and unforgiving as it forces its way in to Danny's mouth. _

_But Danny isn't in the room with him. Danny is strolling down a street in Florence with Rusty at his side, gelati in their hands (and round Rusty's mouth, always round Rusty's mouth, it seems to be some sort of rule) and a sapphire necklace in his pocket. The sun is shining and the job is over and there is laughter and lightness and lo-_

_Bryn's teeth bite down on Danny's bottom lip, drawing blood. As Bryn releases him, the shockwave of pain hits Danny and drags him back to the here and now._

"_I don't know where you just went but you're not going again. You stay right here with me."_

_Danny's fingers dig into his palms as Bryn's eyes harden and he says, "Drop"._

_Danny kneels. Kneels and waits. Kneels and waits in front of Bryn and he can't stop his breath coming in little, shallow pants. Bryn's hands busy themselves in Danny's hair and Danny fights to keep the horror of it all off his face. And he waits. Kneels and waits._

_Suddenly, Bryn delivers a vicious blow to the side of Danny's head which sends him sprawling to the floor. Bryn is on top of him at once, pushing his head to the carpet, holding him face down and his mouth is beside Danny's left ear. _

"_It would be a real chore to fuck you, Danny," Bryn spits each word. "I do slim and blond and pretty. They don't have to be willing. But you? I'd struggle to even get it up for you. But it's good to know that the offer's there."_

_He stands up and lets Danny get to his feet._

"_Next time you think you're in control, Danny-boy, you just think about this evening. You just think about what you were willing to let me do."_

_Danny forgets and bites his lip and stifles the moan._

"_And maybe there'll be a time when you're begging me to go through with it. Think about that too."_

_He can taste blood._

"_Now run along. I've got a busy day tomorrow."_

_Danny picks up his jacket and walks blindly back to his room. His fingers stumble with the key but he fits it into the lock and shuts the door behind him. No Rusty. Thank God, no Rusty. He pulls off his clothes and he hits the shower and stands and lets the water run over his face and body and understands exactly why Rusty hit meltdown. He feels like peeling his skin off._

_Shower over, he makes it to the bed and lies on his side in the mostly darkness, his lip throbbing, and tries not to think about the cruelty in Bryn's fingers and the merciless way Bryn claimed his mouth. Most of all, he tries not to think about Bryn with Rusty, Bryn having the opportunity to treat Rusty so brutally._

_Maybe if he can make it to morning, he can hide it from Rusty. Maybe. There's still his lip but he can think of something for that. Of course, that means making it to morning. And it means Rusty not being Rusty. Neither seems likely._

As they sit looking at each other, Rusty's thumb brushes gently over Danny's injured mouth and Danny smiles at him and in the smile is the helplessly inevitable. And Rusty feels the weight of that and nods to himself. Because it's always mutual and sometimes threats are the only way. But first there needs to be something else.

He leans forward and bends his head and gently, briefly, kisses Danny's lips and then pulls back.

"Listen to me, Danny," and he means every word. "If you let this happen again. In any way. In even the slightest way. If you stand there and let him… I will go to his room and I will strip off and I will wait for him in his bed. Are we clear?"

His eyes are unblinking and crystal.

"Are we clear?"

He can see the arguments rise up in Danny. The protestation and the pain. But he says nothing. Because Rusty's killed the argument before it starts. Danny nods.

"Good."

And then Rusty shrugs himself out of his suit and shirt and shoes and socks and climbs into bed alongside his partner, his very best friend, and holds him and is held and neither wants to let go.


	9. Toothbrush

An Unholy Alliance by InSilva

Disclaimer: do not own, do not own, do not own.

Chapter Nine: Toothbrush

* * *

It's late and he's still not asleep. Actually, forget late: it's early enough to be Friday. A week since Saul has gone missing and everything they've found out has just made the need to find him that much more urgent.

It's also been two days in Bryn's company. Two days. That's all. It feels like a lifetime. And the effect of Bryn hasn't lessened, not over the years, not over the two days. He is still…Bryn. And what he's just done to Danny…he can't help but think about the horror of it, the taste of Bryn, the feel of Bryn and it is killing.

He chokes back a sob and Danny stirs in his arms.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"You not asleep?"

"You neither."

"No." Pause. "What?"

Rusty shakes his head and even though it's dark, Danny seems to see it.

"Tell me, Rus."

"It's my fault," Rusty says at last. "It's my fault."

"What have you gone and done now? If you're taking the blame for Wham! splitting up again..."

Rusty isn't playing.

"If Bryn met you in the street, he would walk on by. He wouldn't even look at you twice."

"You know how to wound."

"If he met me…if he met me, he'd probably be interested. He'd try."

"You are just redefining modesty, you know that?"

"Danny…" A hint of annoyance.

"Rusty." Patient. "I get your point."

"Good."

"But it's a stupid point."

"Huh."

"Because when we met each other, we stopped doing the separate thing, didn't we? That all went out the window. All the things we've done and all the things we've been through… We experienced all that as us. And that includes Bryn. You ask me whether I'd rather have a life without Bryn in it or a life with you? You know the answer."

He does.

"Why?" Danny says curiously, sitting up. "You're not thinking-"

"If you hadn't met me, last night wouldn't have happened." _Of course, I'm thinking._

"I am going to pretend I didn't hear that," Danny says fiercely. "Now stop the angst. We're together, we're here and we've got a job to do."

He settles down into the bed again and feels Rusty's head lay up against his shoulder by way of apology. He turns and presses his lips briefly to Rusty's forehead.

"Now I know what it feels like," Rusty says quietly.

Danny runs his tongue over his lip. "So do I."

* * *

There are many things that can wake Rusty up. Sounds and smells and touch. On one occasion, Danny has delicately dropped snow into Rusty's open mouth to see if that would work. It did.

But at this moment, at this very moment, it isn't one of his usual senses that is screaming at him. It is something intuitive and deep-rooted and he comes to and squints and registers several things at once. He is still lying close to Danny, his arm loosely over Danny and there is half-light and he feels Danny jolt awake a half-second after he himself has done and still there's no excuse for neither of them to have heard the locked door being opened. Because the sound of that might have been the trigger but the danger signal is due to the presence at the foot of the bed.

"Touching."

Bryn. Dressed and ready for the day. Hands in pockets and staring down at the pair of them with a fair imitation of a guileless smile.

They spring up in bed and Rusty feels the fury flooding through him at the trespass and even more so at the sight of Bryn after what Bryn has done to Danny.

"Having a lie-in, fellas? It's six o'clock, you know."

"What are you?" Rusty snarls. "Our wake-up call?"

Bryn chuckles. He looks over at Danny.

"You're awfully quiet, Danny. How's the lip?"

The rage builds towards the incandescent inside Rusty but he feels Danny's hand grip his tightly under the sheets, unseen, and it holds him in check.

"Still a little sore, Bryn, thank you for asking. I told Rusty what happened. With the whisky glass."

Bryn's eyes narrow a fraction and they flick to Rusty as Danny continues.

"Mind you, I don't think he believes it was an accident."

Rusty does his best to stare at Bryn with distrust and accusation. It is not difficult to do.

"You just don't know your own strength, Danny-boy," Bryn says finally with a grin.

"Why are you here?" Rusty spits at him and cannot help the sharp inhalation as Bryn's gaze travels over his exposed shoulders and chest.

Danny's grip tightens but Rusty knows this has shifted from restraint to protectiveness.

"Bryn," Danny prompts, his tone unfriendly.

"I've got a little field trip planned. Need to check something out I heard about last night after my company left me." His eyes drop on Danny and Rusty sees and hates the look. "Didn't want you fretting when you realised I was gone."

Saul. The fear rushes through them.

"We'll come with you," Danny begins but Bryn shakes his head dismissively.

"Not this time, amateurs. But I'll be back tonight. I'll see you in the morning."

"No!" Rusty says firmly.

Bryn's eyes glint. "Now I already told you what I think of that word."

"You don't go anywhere!" Rusty snaps.

"What you gonna do? Tackle me to the ground? Please." He moves to the door. "Have a nice day, boys. Go and look at some more trains. I'll see you tomorrow."

The door closes behind him and Rusty falls back on the bed, his mouth moving with anger and disgust and not bothering to hide it. Danny drops back down to the bed beside him and his hand is still on Rusty's.

"It might be for the best," Danny says and Rusty shoots him a look of disbelief. "Not the going alone. The seeing. Last night, I told him about us."

And that could mean many things but Rusty knows exactly what Danny's talking about.

"He was…he was…" Danny's mouth screws up at what Bryn had been saying. "And I needed to."

"He won't understand."

"He didn't."

Bryn wouldn't - _couldn't_ – understand. But Danny had still needed to tell him. A counter to the foulness pouring out of Bryn. A definite need to defend and protect. A desire to highlight what Bryn will never have.

"The point is that he thinks we're-"

"He does."

"He does. And seeing us…it's not going to change his perception."

"No…"

"We can use it. Just like this," Danny indicates his lip and Rusty winces. "It gives him places to go that we don't care about. He can't be busy in two places at once."

"I guess," Rusty sighs. He looks unconvinced. "He's having a damn good try."

* * *

_He is hot. He is cold. He has no idea where he is. The world washes up and down. Someone is talking. He doesn't understand the language. His mouth is dry and he can't ask for water but blessedly, someone presses a wet cloth to his lips. He is cold. He is hot. And he doesn't know where he is. He doesn't know. He doesn't know. He doesn't…he can feel consciousness slipping and he's not sure he should be fighting to stay awake…he's…he…_

* * *

They are dressed and having coffee and cake in a little shop down from the hotel. Danny has called Matsui who thinks he may have some news.

"Later, Danny. I will call by your hotel later. I am waiting for someone to return. I promise I will have something for you."

Now, Danny and Rusty are busy comparing notes.

"So, Cussons, Bossuet, Dubois…the diamonds…the set-up…" Rusty takes a sip of coffee and puts the cup down. "Gerard…the set-up…"

Danny sees Rusty's fingers rubbing across his bottom lip and keeps his face carefully neutral. Even after all this time, it hurts. Even after all this time, the pain is fresh. Especially at the moment.

"See," and Danny is glad that Rusty is so caught up in his own thought process that he hasn't seen the reaction below the surface. "See, here's what I don't understand. Dubois trusts no one."

"Yeah."

"So he has the diamond with the microdot made."

"Very "Man from UNCLE."

_I thought so._

"And…what…everyone knows about it?"

"Bryn…Michael…" Danny nods slowly seeing where this is going.

"And Cussons and Bossuet…" Rusty says. "They all know about it."

"It's a set-up in itself," Danny can see. "It's a trap."

"Dubois dangles this out in the open and sees who'll bite."

"Not Cussons. Not Bossuet."

"They're too smart."

"They don't need it."

"Someone else…"

"Someone not so smart…"

"Someone inside…"

"He's trying to flush out a rat."

Rusty finishes his cake and licks his fingers.

"We need to find out who works for Dubois."

"We need to have lunch with Michael."

* * *

Michael accepts the invitation and meets up with them in a bar close to his apartment block.

The first thing he sees is Danny's lip.

"What happened?" he frowns and Danny shrugs.

"Whisky glass broke on me."

"Whisky glass. Right." And the sceptical look on Michael's face leads them both to believe that he has come up with a hundred similar lines courtesy of Bryn.

"Michael," Rusty says gently, "Danny knows about the microdot and the diamonds. We were wondering if you could tell us a little more about M Dubois and his operations."

"The men who work for him."

Michael looks from one to the other and shrugs. "He changes the men around him regularly. He doesn't-"

"-trust anyone," Danny finishes. "So we understand."

"He doesn't like anyone to get close," Michael emphasises. "But some people he has to rely on."

"People like you," Rusty says and there is a shy smile from Michael.

"He has a couple of men who are closer than most. Hobbs and Jamieson. Both been around for a while longer than most."

"Are they close enough to be in his confidence?" Danny wants to know.

"I'm not certain," Michael confesses. "Part way at least. All the way…? Only M Dubois knows."

Hobbs and Jamieson, they learn, have been there for a long, long time. If Dubois doesn't trust them now, he never will. But trust doesn't always mean access to the inner circle and it's possible they don't understand the purpose of what Dubois has set up. It's possible they see it at face value like everyone else. And if that's the case…maybe they have sat and watched the diamond with the hidden secret out on display, sat and watched it and thought to themselves that that information might be put to better use in another's hands.

* * *

It's late afternoon by the time they reach their room at the Excelsior.

"I'm gonna freshen up," Rusty says and disappears into the bathroom.

Danny's phone rings as he hears the shower running.

"It's Matsui," he calls through. "He's downstairs."

"OK," Rusty shouts back. "You want me with?"

"It's fine. I won't be long."

* * *

Rusty finishes up in the shower and knots a towel round his waist. He looks in the mirror and runs a hand through his wet hair then heads out to the bedroom.

Bryn is sitting in the easy chair.

Drawing on the experience of so many years in the con, he manages to keep the shock off his face and to resist the urge to grab something to wrap round himself because Bryn's eyes are enjoying the view.

"Second time today you've been here uninvited."

"Got back early. Found out some mutually interesting information. Thought you both might like to hear about it over dinner. Say, 7.30? Restaurant downstairs?"

"I'll tell Danny. We'll let you know."

Bryn makes no move to leave.

"You want me to help pick out something nice for you to wear?"

"Nope. Just want you to shut the door on your way out."

Bryn chuckles and stands up.

"I'll see you later."

* * *

Danny returns to find Rusty dressed and searching for something.

"How did you get on with Matsui?"

"Yeah. He's got some…what is it?"

"It's stupid," Rusty admits, disappearing into the bathroom. "I can't find my toothbrush. Matsui?"

"Right. He spoke to the people he knows who work the trains. The train Saul boarded had to slow down when it was travelling through Poland. Engineering works or something."

"Poland?"

"Yeah." Danny looks round the bed, trying to find the missing toothbrush.

"He jumped off the train." Rusty emerges from the bathroom and digs around their holdalls.

"He jumped," Danny agrees. And then, "Ah."

He reaches down and pulls the toothbrush out from the side of the chair.

"Here it is." He holds it up.

Rusty stares at it. "But that means…ohh…"

_What?_

"Bryn was here," Rusty says reluctantly.

"What?" And this has so much more wrapped up in it.

"He was here. In this room. I came out of the shower-"

Danny's face shows all shades of horror and Rusty shakes his head.

_Start at the beginning._

"I came out of the shower-

_In a-_

"In a towel," Rusty reassures. "And Bryn was sitting in that chair."

"Oh, fuck." Danny can see it. He wishes he can't.

"He didn't do anything. He got back early and wanted to set up a dinner date."

"He did enough. And if your toothbrush is here…"

"He was in the bathroom. He was…" Rusty sits down on the edge of the bed and closes his eyes. "Oh, fuck."

And they both know Bryn didn't have his eyes shut. Rusty looks up at Danny with a mixture of disgust and bewilderment in his face.

"Not to- you know- but why didn't he…?"

"Because, Rus, this," Danny holds up the toothbrush, "is how he works."

_Mindfuck._

_Complete mindfuck._

Rusty is silent for a moment and then, "I feel so fucking unclean."

Danny smiles sadly. "I rather think that's the point."

* * *

Bryn sits down in the bar and smiles to himself. He's getting bolder, invading their territory and he loves that they have no comeback.

_He has watched Danny disappear and he gives it a few seconds then slowly opens the door. He hears the shower running and for a moment, opportunity rules._

_He slides into the bathroom and stares at the frosted glass. The glass masks the figure behind it, but he can still see the hands placed flat up against the tiles, facing away from the door, weight on one foot, head bent, letting the water run over his head and shoulders and down his back…_

_Rusty will never know the willpower it takes to push instinct and appetite away. He turns his head away and his gaze lights on the toothbrush. He smiles._

_He sits waiting, sucking on the toothbrush and knowing he has fuel enough for fantasy tonight. Yes. He can wait. He can wait. The quick and easy isn't ever as gratifying as the drawn out and the agonising. _

It is the most intense game he can remember experiencing in a long time. Ever, maybe. He likes his prey to know what's coming. He likes his prey to struggle futilely against the unavoidable. It makes the endgame so much more satisfying.


	10. MIA

An Unholy Alliance by InSilva

Disclaimer: not owning any character from the Ocean's world.

Chapter Ten: MIA

_

* * *

_

Previously.

Gerard's call has been a pleasant surprise and the job itself is straightforward enough. Amsterdam is a European city he's visited a few times and knows reasonably well and he hopes to catch up with Matsui. Gerard sends over a phone and instructions and he feels wanted and young again and the love of the con burns bright inside.

As for the diamonds themselves…Gerard has left the method of transportation up to him and he has an immediate plan to secure and conceal. Nothing too uncomfortable – he's never smuggled anything in places that customs officers think to search first – but a little discomfort will be involved.

He flies out early. The trip to Europe is uneventful and the hotel is unassuming and he sets out to reconnoiter the address Gerard has provided. A phone call to the inside man leads to a brief meeting in a coffee house so that they can recognise each other. After that, it's a case of checking out the escape routes and learning the alternative routes and finding someone to facilitate what he needs to move the stones.

Bumping into Matsui whiles away a pleasant afternoon.

"Do you know what they're up to?" Matsui asks and there's no doubting whom he means.

He chuckles. "No one knows what they're up to. But everyone knows where they've been. Last I heard they were headed off to Saratoga. _Why_ I'm not sure. But did I tell you about Cincinnati and the mayor's snuffboxes and the pageant?"

A long story ensues.

That night, the night before, he sits in the hotel room and thinks of Danny and Rusty. They are not often far from his thoughts and he wonders idly what they're planning and when he will hear about it, either directly or on the grapevine. He hasn't seen them in a long while but he knows that when he meets up with them again it will be like they've never been away.

He imagines them dropping in on him as they have done several times before. Unannounced, unexpected, but never unwelcome. Danny will be seeking out the bottle of whisky and Rusty will be investigating the fridge. He will silently hand Danny the alcohol and wordlessly pass Rusty the takeaway menus he keeps just for him. And then, over food and drink, they will sit and talk and he will listen and study them.

When they are on the con, they live their lives at such a fast pace that he fears they are using up their allotted span on this planet prematurely. The brilliance and the shine and the dazzle. There must be a finite amount of each and he does not like to think about what would happen when they run out.

Downtime. They need it. More than either of them realise or would admit. Only after an hour or so has passed, do Danny's shoulders properly relax and the edge of the buzz leaves Rusty's eyes a little while later. They push themselves. They push themselves for each other, not wanting to let the other one down and he saw it when they first started working together and nothing has changed. It is all wrapped up in the unvoiced agreement that they seem to have struck within moments of meeting that they will live and die for the con and each other.

They've always exceeded anything the other could have expected or wanted. He knows of at least a dozen instances on each side when there were alternatives. Less painful alternatives. Courses of action that other partners would take without blinking and if those other partners met up afterwards, there would be no blame attached and only a slight lessening of trust and maybe just a tad more of a gap between them.

Rusty and Danny never even consider those alternatives. Not for themselves. For the other…well, of course. And even so, even when they are cursing the other for their stupidity and their recklessness, even then, they know that there would be no other way.

He has never seen any two people so tight. He has never had the joy and the terror that that kind of working relationship brings. And although there are times when he wants to shout at the pair of them, they make his heart sing.

He sleeps well that night.

* * *

Morning of, he is up and prepared and ready. He fingers the little piece of metal in his pocket and he is set.

A couple of streets away, he gets into persona, map in hand, bewildered look in his eyes, and when he turns into the relevant street, he wanders up and down a few times, looking lost and helpless. He stands outside the office building and scratches his head, surreptitiously checking his watch. His timing is perfect as always. Heading inside, he unfolds the map to its full extent and prepares to act the confused tourist.

The armed guards set his nerves on edge but the security man is unsuspecting and patient and if this dim-witted American happens to have chosen lunch hour to blunder in and ask directions, well, it's not the end of the world.

Staff start to pour out of the building and out of the corner of his eye, he sees the inside man making his way through the foyer. With a smile and a tip of his hat, he contrives to collide with the man and the three diamonds are transferred into his waiting hand. He apologises then places them with precision and then he is out of there. Not too fast, not too slow, walking not running. He calls his pre-programmed contact who will confirm the pick up to Gerard and then starts the circuitous route that will lead him to the train station.

The back of his neck tells him he is not alone. A glance into a shop window shows him a couple of interested parties behind him. Circuitous be damned. He takes a short cut in through a baker's and out through the back and that buys him time.

The station is not far away and he makes it on to the train he means to, just about to pull out. He heads straight for the toilet and sits tight for the duration.

Getting off in Berlin, he feels more confident and allows himself to admit that he has had a shaky moment back there. He's not as young as he used to be and the prospect of being on the wrong side of someone is something he dreads a little more than he used to.

He is supposed to catch the train to Paris, to double back on himself and then a plane home. He is supposed to. But as he alights, he spots the red jacket on the platform and knows that they have caught the express train and that the danger is not over.

With agility that belies his age and foolheadedness that he has never lost, he leaps down on to the tracks and avoids the live current by inches. He scrambles over and up on to the train about to depart. There is no clue as to where it is headed but it has to be a smart move to get on it and away.

Heart pounding, he settles down in a seat and hopes that his escape has not been noted. Too much to hope for, of course, because after a little while, the red jacket is glimpsed working its way through the next carriage and they are somehow following, somehow tracking… He wonders. His phone. The phone that Gerard sent him. Gerard can't know…someone somewhere must be playing more than one side. He pulls it out of his pocket and frowns at it. He is not technically minded in the slightest but it must be possible and if he uses it again, they may be able to pinpoint him.

He hides the phone down the side of his seat and walks quickly down through the carriages, collecting a suitcase from the end luggage rack and disappearing into the toilet with it. Luckily, he has chosen well. The tourist and the loud shirt and the floppy hat disappear. He pulls on a baggy sweater and finds a pair of spectacles. He stares in the mirror. It's not going to be enough, not nearly enough and he needs to think of something else.

He feels the train's speed lessen and the crazy idea comes to him. It has to be worth trying because the alternative is to sit and wait for fate in a red jacket to find him.

Even though the train is going more slowly, the fields outside are travelling past at impossible speeds and the realisation of the craziness momentarily outweighs the other survival instinct. He closes his eyes and considers if there is any other way but none comes to him in the half a second he has allotted for this thought.

Then, resolute, he watches for the right moment. A copse of trees, a hill sloping away and he jumps. Jumping is easy. Jumping presents no problems whatsoever and as he falls through the air, he sees the door swing shut behind him and he knows it will be a while if at all before his pursuers realise what he has done.

As stated, jumping is no trouble. Landing is a son of a bitch.

He hits the ground all wrong and his spectacles go flying and his ankle twists beneath him and he doesn't roll so much as bounce hard down the hill and the trees stop him by getting in the way of his head. He lies dazed and winded and in shock and pain and unconsciousness when it comes is not surprising.

* * *

The rain wakes him up. It's dark now and he's wet and cold and he is disorientated and doesn't understand at once what's happening. He tries to sit up but his body is not having it and standing up seems even less likely. The trees appear to be a place to shelter and he drags himself further under them and lies in the damp ferny undergrowth and waits for light.

Morning arrives and his situation is not much better. There is pain in his head and pain in his ankle and the parts in between hurt too. The rain has left a chill in his bones and an ache inside that he needs to ward off because he has no exact idea where he is and being ill just does not come into the equation.

He grabs hold of a fallen branch and uses it to push himself up into a sitting position against a tree trunk. It's a start. His fingers check out his forehead and come away with blood but it's not fresh. He bends his knee and gingerly prods his right ankle. It's sore but he doesn't think it's broken. That has to be good. When he tries to put weight on it, however, there is sharp agony and he drops back to the ground. He is not going to be walking anywhere.

Very well. If he can't walk, he can crawl. He hesitates about following the train tracks. It's the sensible option because they must lead to civilisation. On the other hand, he might meet those in pursuit and he would certainly be at a disadvantage.

He turns towards the west, away from the railway line and starts to move, dragging himself over fallow ground, in search of salvation.

* * *

Thirsty. He is so very thirsty and there is no water in sight, nor even plants. All he can see are muddy fields and he struggles onwards, not letting the dull feeling inside him take over. His head hurts and every movement jolts his ankle. It is not good. He shakes himself sternly and asks himself what the other men he knows and respects would do. Danny and Rusty, for instance. They would never give up. He forces himself on.

* * *

He does not know where or when he is and the dull feeling has turned into an all-consuming fever. Still, he crawls forward because that was his plan and he needs to stick to his plan and when he gets to…well, he's sure he'll eventually remember where he's headed and then this plan will make sense. It has to. And so he drives himself on.

* * *

He doesn't know how long he's been lying in the ditch. He doesn't even know he's lying in a ditch. He doesn't know that it's only by chance the farmer has found him.

He feels himself be picked up in strong arms and he hears shouted words that he can't understand and then he is placed gently on soft sheets and he loses himself again.

* * *

The farmer's wife is anxious. The old man her husband has found is still ill, even after a few days. He has a nasty wound on his head and his ankle is swollen and the fever seems to be eating him alive. Still he reminds her of her grandfather and she wants to help him. But however much she tries, nothing seems to be bringing his temperature down.

"Hospital," her husband says finally and she sighs and agrees.

* * *

The hospital is basic and clean and the farmer hands over money that his wife has insisted he pay. A bed is found. The patient is made comfortable. And Saul is buried in a faceless ward with faceless men.


	11. Hide and seek

An Unholy Alliance by InSilva

Disclaimer: Danny and Rusty. Not mine, not mine, not mine. Not Bryn's either. Working on keeping it that way.

Chapter Eleven: Hide and seek

* * *

"Thanks, Michael." Rusty hangs up and nods at Danny. "He's going to let us know if there's anything that looks even vaguely connected to a search party in Poland."

"Good." Danny considers for a moment and then, "We've got to be careful."

"Not to mention Michael," Rusty nods. He's thought of this too.

"And Saul…"

Rusty grimaces because they want to keep the information to themselves. They want to hide it well away from Bryn but there's the possibility he can tap resource they can't. Having Michael on their side may not be enough.

"I'll call him," Danny suggests and dials reception. "Mr Grayson's room, please."

Rusty sees the surprise in Danny's eyes and he frowns at it. Danny looks up at him. "The lady would like to know which of Mr Grayson's rooms we wish to be connected to."

"There are two Mr Graysons?"

Danny shakes his head slowly and holds out the receiver so that Rusty can hear.

"I'm sorry, sir, I can't give out room numbers, obviously, but…"

"He's in room 707," Danny says.

"Yes. And also…"

"913," Rusty supplies suddenly, definite and tight-lipped.

"That's right," the receptionist agrees, overhearing. "Do you want-"

"We'll call you back," Danny tells her and hangs up.

They look at each other.

_Opposite. Oh, fuck…_

"He saw me leave earlier," Danny realises. "He's been-"

"-all the time. Man!" Rusty closes his eyes as the shudder runs through him.

He opens his eyes again to find Danny, tense and unreadable.

_What?_

The look that Rusty can't interpret continues.

"Tell me," he demands and Danny sighs.

"I'm not even thinking one step behind," he says eventually and now Rusty can see the fear of failure, of failing _him_, in Danny's eyes.

"It's not happening, Danny," he says insistently and he means both Bryn and the thought that Danny ever could let him down. "Come on. Let's go and find him. And buy a new toothbrush while we're at it."

* * *

As they enter the restaurant, Bryn greets them with a wide smile and a low whistle of appreciation as his eyes run over Rusty.

"Nice shirt. Reminds me of those lovely sweets you get at Christmas. Never know whether or not to peel the wrapper off slowly to prolong the pleasure or just rip it off and devour the contents."

"That must be quite the dilemma for you," Danny smiles without the smile reaching his eyes.

"Drives me crazy," Bryn agrees. "Shall we order?"

* * *

The waiter has disappeared and Bryn is sitting back in his chair, wearing his perpetual smile of self-satisfaction.

"You told Rusty you had some news," Danny begins abruptly, wanting to start the conversation, wanting Bryn's gaze to move away from Rusty, wanting to take the look out of Bryn's eyes that is always there, every time he sees Rusty, like some sort of promise that reaffirms itself.

"…_it's not a question of if, it's a question of when..." _

"Yeah. Had a little out of town meeting with someone who works for Cussons."

And Danny knows that Rusty is fighting the urge for his mouth to twist just as he himself is. Because "meeting" has a whole different definition for Bryn.

"You know, no one moves on in this damn outfit," Bryn shakes his head. "No ambition, any of them." He shrugs. "Suppose it would be trickier for us if they did."

Danny is almost certain that Bryn would also be still in the employ of the outfit if circumstances had not intervened. Ten years ago, he and Rusty knew little about the scope of operations but they dug round enough to find out that the men Bryn was working for were generous and ruthless in equal measures. From there, it had been an obvious thought that they would not take kindly to someone taking more than their fair share. Now as then, Danny wishes he could have seen the look on Bryn's face when he protested his innocence and opened the door to his safe to prove it only to find money inside that shouldn't have been there. Bryn had been thrown to the wolves.

"Asked him how the land lay with Cussons and Dubois. Apparently it's all sweet. The two of them have more in common with each other than with Bossuet. Seems obvious to me that we should be concentrating our efforts on him. He seems to be the one keeping secrets." His glance focuses on Danny. "What do you think, Danny-boy? Something awfully shady about keeping things from those you're supposed to trust."

Danny lets a well-disguised flinch travel across his face even as Rusty is turning his head towards him.

_Danny? What does he mean?_

_Nothing. _

"I guess it's possible," he says slowly as Bryn chuckles. "Although we've been thinking. There's something else to consider-"

"Steady," Bryn warns. "Almost sounds like you want to take charge." His eyes glitter. "Do you?"

With a flicker of pain he doesn't completely feel, Danny shakes his head.

"No," he says quietly. "No, I don't."

_Just remember why._

"The point is," Rusty interrupts, and Danny can hear the annoyance in his voice at the barbs from Bryn, "that there is nothing secret about this diamond. Hell, even _you _know about it. And you're just a washed up, ex-gofer that didn't see freedom for…how long was it again?"

Bryn's eyes narrow but his retort is cut off by the arrival of the food. When they are on their own once more, Danny leaps in before he can begin.

"If everyone knows, it's not a secret. It's a trap. Dubois is using it to find out who's loyal."

There is a silence as Bryn considers and then he nods slowly. "That's possible."

"Then who?" Rusty presses.

"Eat your food," Bryn instructs. "Let me think."

There is a period of silence where they all chew and Danny hates that they are waiting on Bryn even though they have to wait on Bryn. It has to come from him.

"Jamieson," Bryn says eventually. "Jamieson or Hobbs. Dubois's men. Close but not close enough. Loyal but not above striking out on their own. Wonder which of them it is."

"Maybe it's both," Rusty suggests. "Strength in numbers. Not that you'd know anything about that."

Bryn bares his teeth. "I never need anyone's help. Plenty strong enough by myself."

Danny pushes his half-eaten chicken to one side and he can see that Rusty is only picking at the food in front of him. Bryn is severely depressing both their appetites.

"Something else," he ventures. "We heard from Matsui and we think Saul might have jumped off the train as it headed through Poland."

"Stupid old fool," Bryn snorts and both Danny and Rusty acquire a dangerous look in their eyes. Bryn sees it and scoffs. "What is he to you? Mentor? Guru? Trained both of you, did he? Well, that explains a lot."

With difficulty, Danny swallows the anger. "He could be lost and injured and…we need to start looking for him."

Bryn finishes his last mouthful and nods. "We could start doing that. But we need to check out Jamieson and Hobbs first."

"Saul first," Rusty is adamant.

Bryn shrugs. "What are you thinking of doing? Scouring the Polish countryside for a senile con who's wandering the fields?"

Danny can see the fury building in Rusty and he relates to it.

"We could work logically from the train tracks near where we think he might have jumped off."

"We could, Danny," Bryn agrees, "or we could consider the fact that others are already looking for him and we can find out where they've been and what places they've eliminated. Unless you like running off looking for needles in haystacks. What do you think? Does it sound even remotely like a better plan than yours?"

"Yes," Danny agrees.

"I'm sorry? I didn't quite catch that."

"Yes," he repeats, raising his voice.

Bryn nods. "I'm twenty years older and twenty times smarter, Danny-boy. Don't forget it. We'll work the other angle because the diamonds will be coming back to whoever set up the robbery. Let me find out where Jamieson is partying at the moment. We'll start with him."

With the air of one for whom business is over and pleasure is next up, he pushes his empty plate to one side and studies the pair of them.

"Quite the romance between you two, isn't it? All these years. So, I'm interested, Rusty. How did you and Danny meet? Was it like you and I did? Was Danny a trick? Did he become your regular? Did your heart beat pit-a-pat when you saw him waiting for you? Did you drop down gratefully on your knees, mouth open wide and waiting? Did you lube yourself up ready so that he could slip in, quick and slick?"

Danny lets out a shaky breath because Bryn's viciousness loses none of its potency.

Rusty simply laughs.

"Well, Bryn, it happened just like you said. It's like you were there," he tells him in a tone that implies nothing could be further from the truth.

"Wish I had been." Bryn's gaze travels to Danny. "What about you, Danny? When did you decide it was true love? Was it when he went down on you for the first time? Did he swallow every last drop? Or was it when you pushed up inside him? Was he hot and tight?" He leans across the table and grins, then goes on, enunciating every word, "Is Rusty that good a fuck?"

"Oh, I'm amazing," Rusty assures him, eyes bright and hard. "But you are never gonna find out."

"Never say never." And Bryn's eyes are equally intense.

"We done here?" Danny interrupts the pair of them as they stare at each other.

_I guess._

_I guess._

"Think tomorrow we'll be on the move. I'll see you at breakfast," Bryn sits back in his seat. "Unless of course you want to stay and join me for dessert? No?"

"No," Danny agrees and he and Rusty leave.

* * *

They sit in a nearby café and Danny is tolerant of the volume of food Rusty has ordered. He sits and watches. There is a talent to eating angrily and Rusty excels at it.

"Rus."

Rusty shovels another chunk of meat into his mouth and avoids Danny's gaze.

"Rusty."

He takes a long draught of lager from the bottle and still doesn't answer.

Danny reaches across the table and pulls his hand into his and this time Rusty sighs and lets the anger go and looks at him.

"What are we going to do about Bryn?" And he means long-term.

Danny squeezes his hand. "He's too confident. And he underestimates us. That's got to be a mistake."

_OK._

"But we can't do anything until-"

"-we find Saul. Yeah." And Rusty sighs again because Saul is the reason they're there. Saul is the _only_ reason they're there.

* * *

They find a chemist and buy two new toothbrushes and then return, passing the hotel bar where Bryn is sitting with his back to them, stretched out comfortably in an easy chair by the fire, full glass of whisky in his hand.

"Room 913," Danny whispers and they move with purpose.

There are no early warning system hairs in place around Bryn's door and the locks melt away before Rusty's skilful fingers. The room looks barely lived in though there is Bryn's luggage in one corner and his washbag in the bathroom. Rusty searches through the latter and his fingers close around what he's looking for with grim satisfaction.

"Nothing." Danny roots through Bryn's holdall. There's nothing but clothes.

He looks up as Rusty returns from the bathroom.

"What have you done? And don't even try to look innocent."

Rusty grins. "Did a spot of cleaning."

* * *

The phone rings as they slip into their room. It's Michael and his soft voice says, "Just wanted to let you know that there's been some phone calls."

"Poland?" Rusty asks.

"Yeah. Activity focused on the hospitals."

"Thanks, Michael. Appreciate it."

* * *

Later, he lies and listens to Danny sleeping beside him. It is a comforting sound in the same way that the taste of chocolate reassures. He likes the feel of the sound. It wraps over him and he can't help himself and he inches a little closer to the warmth of Danny.

It has to happen at some point. There's no way it's not going to. Not with Bryn around. He can feel the memory bubbling away, forcing itself up to the surface…

_They're free. They're free and they've escaped and they're safe. _

"_Double," Danny's said and they've both seen the receptionist's eyes and neither of them cares. _

_They've cleaned up, they've fessed up, they've eaten, they've drunk. Everything is fine and nothing is at all. Because he's fallen into brief dreamless sleep and now he's wide awake and staring up at the ceiling and listening to Danny, breathing gently, sleeping beside him. That should be the comfort it always is but right now…_

_Bryn. He can see every detail in the man's face. The set of his jaw; the cruelty in his mouth; the obsidian eyes. Bryn's eyes… He screws up his own as he sees the look in them. Predatory. Obsessive. He hears Bryn's voice, sardonic and self-assured and so convinced that things are only going one way. His way. He remembers the taste of Bryn: he tastes of force and brutality and pain. He thinks about the smell of Bryn up close, the musk, the pheromones that speak of excitement and stimulation. Can he still smell him? He can. He stifles the gag reflex and tells himself he's imagining things. But he isn't, he surely isn't._

_Shower._

_He slips quietly out of bed and strips and heads for the bathroom. He closes the door to deaden the sound and doesn't bother with the lights in case they wake up Danny. He stands in the shower and lets the water run down over him and takes the soap and stands in the darkness and cleans himself again._

_Except it isn't enough._

_Because maybe, if he concentrates, all he can smell is the blandness of the soap under his nostrils; maybe, if he focuses, all he can hear is the water running down over him; maybe, if he tries really hard, he can't see or taste Bryn anymore. But he can feel him. He can still feel him._

_He can feel Bryn's fingers. Raking up and down his throat, running round his collarbone and dragging slowly, eternally, across his shoulder blades. The same fingers that ran with appraising touch down his chest, down the flat of his stomach. Fingers that have never been close to being described as gentle._

_His own fingers scrabble and find the nailbrush on the soapdish and he starts to scrub at his throat and his shoulders, trying to rid himself of the feeling of uncleanliness, trying to fight the memory of the situation Bryn has forced him into and the thoughts of what else awaited him. He sees again the look of calculation and triumph and mastery in Bryn's face and he sinks down, curling up in a ball, letting the water run down over him, lost in the recollection._

_And then he is back in the moment with Bryn in the cell, back in the moment when Bryn forced his mouth on his. _

"Still got that pretty mouth, I see."

_The tears fall as he raises the brush to his lips and scrubs and scrubs and scrubs..._

"Here's something to remember me by."

_Tearing flesh. Numb to the blood and the pain._

"…I've seen inside you…"

_Rubbing and scrubbing, desperate to try and destroy the imprint… _

_He breaks off eventually and he starts on his chest because now, Bryn's fingers are blazing a path down into his skin, leaving a white hot trail. And after that, he needs to address the way Bryn pressed himself up against him and after that…_

Back in the present, he swallows hard. It took time for him to come back to himself. Time and Danny. And Rusty knows how much he's relying on Danny to get him through what's happening now. He can't imagine being apart from Danny. And yet…he thinks again about Bryn and Danny. About what didn't happen. About what still might. Maybe he needs to have a better imagination.

* * *

Bryn has finished up his nightcap and is stood in front of the bathroom mirror, cleaning his teeth.

He's thinking about earlier with the shower and he's thinking about the aggression displayed and he's thinking about the secrets lying between Danny and Rusty and he's thinking about _"I'm amazing"_ and he's thinking about finding an outlet for what all this thinking is generating.

He's also thinking the whisky has one hell of an aftertaste.

* * *

It's barely dawn. It's been a tiring shift and he is ready for bed. He opens the door to his flat and walks wearily inside, thinking about grabbing a drink from the fridge, finding it surprising that the bed is down out of the wall, only for the door to be pushed shut behind him. For the briefest of moments, he frowns stupidly and then he realises and cold fear washes right through him.

"Morning, Michael. Hard day's night?" The familiar voice is right behind him.

He can't make any sound. His tongue is frozen in his mouth. And he suddenly panics that his channel of information with Rusty has been found out.

"I bet after all that work you're ready for a nice, warm shower. Am I right?"

No. No. Rusty is safe. This is all about… He gives a little choke because there's nothing he can say to stop what's going to happen. He might as well try to turn back the tide.

There's a tutting sound. "Come on, Michael, you don't have to give me the silent treatment. Turn round."

Reluctantly, he does so and sees the eyes glinting in the darkness.

"That's a good boy. Now. What about that shower?"

* * *

He is standing naked and shaking under the thin jets of lukewarm water. The shaking has nothing to do with the water's temperature.

Instructions are being issued.

"Hands flat up against the wall. Weight on one foot. No, the other foot. Now bow your head…perfect."

He stands in the pose and waits and waits and waits and he is crying silently as the water runs over him. This was over. He thought this was over. He thought… It's been just over ten years. Ten years and…this was over. This was…

The punch between his shoulders knocks him forward against the wall and his head is cut open and as he blinks away the blood that starts dripping down his forehead, hands are laid on him and he is dragged out and thrown down on the tiles and all he can think is that this isn't over. Not by a long way. This may never be over.


	12. A Good Plan

An Unholy Alliance by InSilva

Summary: I don't own them and the man is an idiot. (Thank you!)

Chapter Twelve: A Good Plan

* * *

When he wakes the next morning, Rusty finds Danny getting dressed and studying him. Rusty returns the favour. Danny's lip is healing but it's still slightly swollen and looks tender. And Danny's face is hiding the strain of being with Bryn about as successfully as his own is.

"How you doing?" Danny asks as he pulls his jacket on.

Rusty's silent and Danny sits back down on the bed beside him. Rusty stares up at dark eyes that he trusts more than anything and that he would do anything not to see hurting and he thinks again about Bryn. Bryn who is getting bolder; more confident; more arrogant; more daring. And Danny has always been an indirect target, a means to an end. A threat to be held over Rusty's head to coerce. Now though, it's not about violence. It's not just about violence. Bryn's shifted the rules of this game. And Rusty knows he can't let him win. Not where Danny's concerned.

_Rus._

Rusty marshals his thoughts and allows a weary smile to cross his face even as he pushes the inconceivable way down below the surface where it won't show.

"What he said…" Rusty allows the pain to emerge by way of distraction and Danny gives a little tight-lipped nod. Even though it's absurd, even though it's just designed to torment, the image Bryn was busy painting the previous night of how they met still stings.

"Know what I'm thinking? Apart from the obvious need to buy you pyjamas."

"Enlighten me."

"We ditch him. We've got Michael. We find Saul ourselves."

And the glorious vision of life without Bryn floods through Rusty. The release. The sheer release. But even as he lets himself walk in the sunshine, he's shaking his head.

"Michael's not enough. And Bryn's going to be headed where Saul is. We can't."

And looking at Danny, he knows that Danny knows this. He sees the nod and sigh of acknowledgement from Danny and sighs himself. If Rusty had gone for it, Danny would have too. Danny wants to take the pain away as much as he wants to. But Rusty has a better plan.

* * *

There is no sign of Bryn at breakfast and they stroll back past reception in time to see one of the receptionists upset a tray of gold foil wrapped chocolates across the foyer. Rusty and Danny exchange glances and help her retrieve the sweets.

"Dank u wel," she blushes as they pile them back on the plate.

Rusty is busy reassembling the display with assistance from the girl who remains scarlet and gushing as Danny drops down to the floor and finds the last couple.

"Is there a reward?" he hears Rusty ask and knows immediately that Rusty's mind is working on chocolate and the receptionist's mind is somewhere else entirely.

He is sitting back on his heels, smiling down at the chocolates in his hand when a pair of polished shoes appears in his line of vision.

"While you're down there," Bryn murmurs and smile gone, he looks up to see Bryn, grinning at his own joke which extends into what he supposes is his own private little joke at Danny's expense.

Except that Rusty has overheard. And he understands immediately both levels. Danny catches sight of the unblinking fixed look behind Bryn and he hasn't seen that look often but he's seen it enough times to know that Rusty might just act on the anger. He has to stop him before Bryn notices and pushes it further. Has to give Rusty time to get on top of the rage. Because Bryn would just revel in the physicality of it all.

Danny scrambles upright and holds Bryn's stare.

"We missed you at breakfast."

"Places to go, people to see," Bryn says blithely. "We're moving on. Jamieson is currently in Paris. Dubois has called his men home."

"Jamieson is with Dubois?"

"Jamieson has a house there too. Chateau, really, on the outskirts."

"You sound like you've visited," Rusty interjects and his voice is emotionless and the anger is locked down.

"I know who he is. I know all about him. He has no idea who I am."

"Were you just not important enough?" Rusty suggests.

Bryn chuckles. "It was on my terms, Rusty. Things are always on my terms," he promises.

He looks back at Danny. "Schiphol Airport. Our flight leaves in three hours. Let's get moving."

He grins at Danny. "You're not going to propose another plan, are you, Danny-boy? We know who's in charge here, right?"

Bryn doesn't wait for an answer.

* * *

He doesn't know for sure that they would search his room and he doesn't know for sure that they know about the second room. He doesn't much care either way about either but he hasn't taken any chances. Bryn retrieves the little surprise from the underside of the chest of drawers where he has secured it. He's brought it with him not knowing if there will be chance to use it. Just having it with him gives him a little glow.

* * *

Rusty and Danny are packed and waiting for Bryn by the reception desk. Rusty has tried to call Michael but there is only an answerphone and he isn't going to leave a message.

Bryn appears and they stand up, holdalls in hand.

"Good," Bryn approves and walks straight out of the revolving door to hail a cab.

Rusty follows and Danny steps in to the section behind him.

It happens quickly. Rusty steps out on to the pavement and then drops his holdall into the path of the doors ahead of him as they rotate. The doors lock. And Danny is trapped in the middle of them.

* * *

He doesn't understand at first. And then he understands everything.

He can see him walking away without a backward glance and he bangs on the glass and he shouts. He screams his name.

He can see Bryn, delight dawning.

He can see the cab door opening and he can see him getting in. He can see the look of triumph on Bryn's face as he tips him a wave of farewell and climbs in after him.

He can see the cab driving off.

And he can see hell unfolding.

* * *

He acts smoothly and expertly and he doesn't look once at him.

He doesn't turn round as he walks to the cab.

He doesn't look back.

He doesn't want to see his face.

He doesn't want to see Bryn's either.

He doesn't want to think about what he's just committed to.

* * *

The cab pulls away and he sits on the far side of the car, as far away from Bryn as he can get. He feels Bryn's eyes on him and he makes himself turn his head toward him.

"Well, this is a twist," Bryn says. "I had no idea you planned to ditch Danny."

"Neither did he."

"No, no," Bryn grins, "I just bet he didn't."

There's a little headiness in Bryn's voice and Rusty grits his teeth to hear it. He knows that Bryn has already moved past the cab ride.

"Nothing changes," Rusty says harshly. "We go after Saul and the diamonds. We just do it without Danny."

"Just you and me," Bryn's smile is wide. He stretches his arm out along the back of the seat, his fingers inches away from Rusty's shoulder. "Of course, anything I might have promised, I promised Danny. And while Danny was with us, I might have kept that promise. Not now. Not now, Rusty."

Rusty smiles thinly.

"While Danny was with us, you might have had something to bargain with. Not now. Not now, Bryn."

"_Might_ have…" Bryn chuckles and then the laughter drains away. "A gun to his head and you would have been down on the floor of this cab with your head between my legs right now."

"Well, that isn't happening." Rusty assures him.

Bryn tilts his head on one side. "Just so that we are clear. You can't hope to outfight me. You can't hope to outwit me. If I want you, I can have you. Any way I want you. Any time I want you. And you might put up one hell of a struggle. In fact, I hope you do because I'll be disappointed if you don't. But it'll make absolutely no difference. I can still take you. If I want to, Rusty. And I want to."

Rusty wants to come back with a sharp rejoinder. He wants to say something, anything, to wipe the look off Bryn's face. But words freeze up inside him. Because the self-control is being eroded with every second he is sat locked in the cab with this man who is promising…promising… It is all he can do to keep himself steady. _Danny…_ He chides himself for the weakness of the unbidden thought. Danny is as far away as he could push him. Danny isn't there. And that's a good thing. It's a good thing.

Bryn moves his hand until it is millimetres above Rusty's, pressed flat to the leather seat. Skin above skin. Rusty can feel the heat from Bryn's hand. If he moves his own away, contact is going to be made. He fights the urge to snatch it to his body.

"See that, Rusty? See my hand compared to yours? See the power and the strength versus the delicate and the fragile. You are never going to win against me."

Point made, Bryn moves his arm back to the top of the seat. He is still speaking.

"You'd better get used to the way I feel and the way I taste. You'd better get used to the idea of me. Because we're not talking once. I am going to have you as often as I want to. As often as I can. Think about it, Rusty."

It's all he can think about. It fills up his senses and he can feel it burrowing down into him and now his back is pushed up against the door of the cab, his eyes on Bryn and he is showing nothing, nothing to Bryn, and still he knows that Bryn can read him. _"…I've seen inside you…" _Bryn stretches out his left hand in exploratory fashion towards Rusty's face. Rusty knocks his arm away angrily. Bryn stretches his hand out again and again Rusty knocks it away.

Bryn's tongue runs round his bottom lip. "Oh, this is going to be so much fun."

The cab comes to a halt and Rusty yanks the door open and stands on the pavement: there's safety in the crowds. Safety and no safety because if Bryn wants to…and he wants to… Rusty shakes himself mentally. _Saul. Saul. Saul is what matters._

"Next stop, Charles de Gaulle. Which side of the bed do you want when we hit Paris, Rusty?"

Bryn grins and heaves his bag out of the cab, heading into the airport, leaving Rusty to follow in his wake.

* * *

_He is himself. He has recovered. He remembers. Looking round, he can see he is on a ward with other old men in various states of bewilderment. He's seen a newspaper and the type looks Russian or Polish… Languages were never his forte. He's wearing faded pyjamas that someone has changed him into. His own clothes are on the chair beside his bed and he searches through his pant pockets. His passport and money are gone and he guesses that they've either disappeared into someone else's pocket or maybe they're laying somewhere on a lonely hillside._

_The diamonds are still in place and he supposes that's something to be thankful for. But he needs a phone, he needs to communicate with someone – Gerard, Matsui, maybe…no, he rolls his eyes at himself. They will be somewhere unexpected doing something rash and memorable. _

_Strangers walk in to the ward and he starts to sit up, words forming on his lips but there is something… He shrinks back down on the bed and tries to look as inconspicuous as possible._

* * *

They are heading through passport control when they are stopped.

"Gentlemen, if we might have a word," the polite Dutchman says in perfect English.

"What's this about?" Bryn asks sharply.

"If you'll accompany us."

They're separated and Rusty is led into a room with a chair and a table and a smiling official.

"Just a few things to check," the official says and Rusty smiles back at him inwardly wondering where things went wrong enough to catch them out.

The questions are facile and lengthy and he lies apparently convincingly enough to be offered a cup of coffee. The official disappears and he is left alone in the room with only the one door, only the one exit and he thinks again about how little he likes that idea.

After what seems an eternity, the door behind him opens and a cup and saucer is placed in front of him. He stares at the hand that rests on the table beside the drink. He knows the hand. He swivels in his chair and looks up at dark eyes. Dark eyes that are full of anger.

_Idiot._

Rusty gives a flash of a smile and can't stop the relief and the thankfulness. The anger melts from Danny's eyes.

"How?" Rusty asks, intrigued.

"Called Matsui. Who called in some favours."

"Ah."

Rusty gets to his feet and reads the pain of the question Danny doesn't want to ask.

_Rus._

"We shared a cab, Danny. Not even Bryn's going to try anything on in the back of a moving vehicle in daylight."

"Rus." And he wants the truth.

Rusty sighs. "He was full of hot air and threat. As always."

Danny exhales slowly and Rusty changes the subject. "Where is he?"

Danny beams beatifically. "Bryn's enjoying some quality time with a customs official. A very thorough customs official."

And for the first time in the past few days, Rusty laughs like he means it.


	13. Six Words

An Unholy Alliance by InSilva

Disclaimer: OK, pop quiz. Which of these is InSilva in possession of? Danny, Rusty or an annoying cough that makes her full of grouchy self-pity?

Chapter Thirteen: Six Words

* * *

They are still in the interview room. Both their holdalls are dropped on the floor by the door courtesy of Danny. Danny is standing at one end of the table and Rusty sitting against the edge of the table, further down, arms folded, and the conversation has moved on to whether Disney truly lost their way in the Eighties or if it was a master plan to conquer all with four consecutive surefire winners.

The door opens and Bryn enters and they both look over at him. His eyes take in Danny and stands stock still and there is unguarded rage for a moment as he realises and then it is buried.

"Alright, Bryn?" Danny asks, hands in pockets, his voice sounding almost solicitous.

Rusty's voice is less caring. "Hope he had cold hands."

"Hope you embraced the experience," Danny adds. "You look like you might have some anger management issues there."

"Feeling fingers where they shouldn't be?" Bryn shrugs. "One I owe you, Danny."

"Consider it a present."

"Oh, no. I like to make sure my debts are repaid." He smiles over at Danny. "But I can see we're back to being the Three Musketeers again."

Bryn slowly saunters closer.

"You know what, time apart got me thinking. I'm torn, Danny." Bryn's tone is musing and knowing and they both wait for the other shoe to fall. "Part of me would love to have you there and watching. When."

And neither Danny nor Rusty needs that "when" clarifying.

"Have you sitting there ringside. Not missing a moment. Oh, but he'll try to keep the pain and the shame off his face, won't he? For your sake. He'll try so very, very hard. And you'll still see every little bit he isn't showing."

Bryn is still moving forward in Danny's direction and Rusty has turned so that he can track him and the invisible invective heading Bryn's way is…

"Oh, you have such a filthy tongue on you," Bryn laughs approvingly as he flicks a look at Rusty. Then his attention is back on Danny. "Of course, maybe it would be better if you are there but blindfolded. Having to rely on your sense of smell, on what you hear…"

Danny can feel Rusty's gaze upon him and he is certain Rusty wants to reassure and take him away from what Bryn is painting but Danny can't take his eyes off Bryn and his face is tight.

"Imagine it, Danny. Imagine sitting there and listening… Or maybe you're thinking there won't be any noise. Maybe you're thinking that he'll keep everything locked up inside." Bryn's eyes are like black marble. "Trust me. There will be noise."

Bryn is feet away from Danny and still closing.

"But possibly, Danny, possibly it would be best if you aren't there at all. Make everything between Rusty and me wild and raw and uninhibited. And you not being there?" Bryn draws level with him. "Well, I think that will just crucify you."

With difficulty, Danny wrenches his gaze away and he finds Rusty staring at him. Talking him back from the edge.

_Don't rise to it, Danny, don't rise to it._

It's OK. It's OK. Only words. And Bryn is skilful in knowing how to use words to wound. And that is what this is about. That's all this is about. The fact that Bryn is completely correct is immaterial.

"It'll be nice to have him on his own, Danny," Bryn grins. "I certainly enjoyed the little one-on-one time we had together in the cab."

Danny's eyes dart left at Bryn. "Nothing happened," he says confidently.

And Bryn gives nothing away with his eyes. He turns his body and leans in and whispers. In Danny's ear. Just so that Danny alone can hear.

"Is that what he told you?"

* * *

His blood runs cold and there is a flicker of fear and doubt that he can't keep from his eyes and he sees the answering look of incomprehension and he can do nothing about it, not with Bryn stood there.

* * *

He sees Bryn whispering and he grits his teeth because whatever he's saying, it'll be more torment and then he sees something he's never seen before and he almost doesn't recognise and when he does, he dismisses it at once because it is ludicrous. He still fails to understand and he shoots an automatic _What?_ at him before realising Bryn will read it.

* * *

He plants the seed and he's not in time to catch Danny's reaction but he _is _in time to see Rusty asking the question and he gives a soft chuckle as he turns and leaves.

"Flight's in half an hour, boys. See you at the gate."

* * *

The door shuts behind Bryn and they stare at each other across the table.

"What did he say?" Rusty wants to know but Danny's eyes are locked on him and trying to read down to the bone.

"What did he say?" he repeats and this time there's urgency because there's concern and speculation looking back at him and he hates them both.

"What happened in the cab, Rusty?" Danny asks softly.

He doesn't understand and then he does and his mouth sets with a twist as he glares after the closed door and Bryn.

"Nothing _happened_ in the cab, Danny. Like I said, he was full of hot air and threat."

Danny says nothing but the look that Bryn has put there is still present and Rusty sighs.

"I would never lie to you. How _could_ I lie to you?"

"How could you leave me behind and get in the cab in the first place? Don't remember you sharing that little detail with me."

There's hurt and pain and Rusty hears the anxiety that Danny has lived through in the time spent apart from him and he is sorry, he is endlessly sorry for that but at the same time he doesn't regret at least trying to take Danny out of the equation, trying to keep Danny away and safe.

"I had to try," he says quietly but Danny isn't having apology.

"If something had…if he had…" The ferocity dies down and is replaced by a small voice. "Did he? Rus? Did he…?"

He is angry now because Danny shouldn't even be asking and he leans across the table, fists clenched.

"What do you imagine he did, Danny? Grope me? Thrust his hand down my pants? Kiss me? Shove my head in his lap? Or just flip me over and fuck me right there on the back seat in the middle of rush hour?"

And then the fury drains away because he sees Danny's eyes close and he sees the sway and he moves to his side and his hands are on Danny's shoulders and he is apologising over and over. Danny grips his arms and he pushes him away and holds him so that he can read Rusty's eyes up close with nowhere to hide.

"You'd tell me, Rus. You'd always tell me."

Rusty wants to laugh. He wants to laugh out loud for a long time.

"He didn't lay a finger on me. But if he had, I would tell you. Just like I did with the jail, just like with the boiler room," he begins and incredulously, he sees the agony of fresh doubt raise itself up in Danny's face like an unbidden demon.

_Rusty…oh, Rusty…_

"You know what happened," Rusty grinds the words out. "I told you."

"I know what you told me," Danny says distantly and that is an absolute first.

"I told you the truth!"

"I would have killed him," Danny says with absolute certainty. "I would have-"

"I know, I know," Rusty soothes and then realises that is not the comfort it should be.

Danny's face is blank.

"I know you know. And I know you'd have hidden it from me."

"I'm not that good!" Rusty insists.

Danny ignores him. "You would have kept it bottled up because if I got a hint of…" He stares at Rusty. "Tell me it wouldn't have played that way."

And Rusty can't deny. He would have done just that. He would have buried it as far down as he could and away from Danny. But there is something Danny has to realise, _has_ to know.

"Alright. Yes," he nods and he tries not to look at the sudden agony in Danny's face. "Yes. If Bryn had…" he swallows. "If he had…I would have done my damnedest to lie to you while we were anywhere near him. And maybe, maybe I could have kept it from you in the jail. Maybe I could have even held it back from you through the car ride. Hell, I bet I'd even have made it to the hotel room and through the pizza without you realising."

He puts his hand up to Danny's face.

"But that's about as far as it would have gone. You know me so well, Danny. You know me so damn well. There is no way I could ever, ever get something like that past you forever. There's no way that I'd be able to even if I wanted to. And if – _if -_ it ever happened, I do know…"

He breaks off and doesn't think he can be more open and the _how much I would need you_ doesn't need to be said.

* * *

He hears the truth and he knows the truth and the gaps close instantly and the suspicion is dispelled and DannyandRusty is intact once more. Except that there is now a look in Rusty's eyes that fills him with horror. Because Rusty is staring at his lip and…

"Oh, fuck…" Barely breathed. "Oh, fuck… What did he do to you? That's why you think _I'm_ lying, isn't it? Oh, fuck…"

Rusty pulls back even as Danny reaches for him.

"What are you hiding from me?" he demands.

"Nothing," Danny promises. "I told you everything."

_Danny…_

Rusty's looking at him with the same fearful doubt that possessed him himself earlier.

Danny takes a deep breath and he says with quiet urgency in a voice that speaks of truth and loyalty and the unending. "Don't let him do this, Rusty. Don't let him come between us. We are stronger than Bryn's mindgames."

And Rusty shuts his eyes and Danny waits an eternity and then when he opens them again, the doubt has dissolved. The eternal is back in place.

* * *

Bryn is waiting for them at the gate.

"You're a little tardy, boys. No problems, I hope?"

"No problems, Bryn," Danny assures him.

_As if._ Rusty's eyes are rolling.

And Bryn's searching for the division, searching for what he's created but the unity is tight and he is disappointed.

Their flight is called and the game moves on to Paris.

* * *

A/N: Short chapter but I didn't want to put anything else with this.


	14. Grace and Favours

An Unholy Alliance by InSilva

Disclaimer: oh, they aren't mine. Anyone crazy enough to think they are? :)

Chapter Fourteen: Grace and Favours

* * *

The…_row…_with Danny has left Rusty drained and he has fought to keep up the banter and the nonchalance in Bryn's company throughout the trip to Paris. Danny has covered for him. Like he always does.

Now, fully dressed, Rusty sits in the locked hotel bathroom on the edge of the bath and stares down at his left hand. It's the hand that he used to halt Bryn's progress on the basketball court and despite Danny's efforts in the café, he can still feel Bryn breathing underneath his fingers. His mouth screws itself up in disgust at the memory.

It's the same hand that Bryn almost touched in the cab and he closes his eyes as he remembers the nearness of Bryn, the way there was just not enough distance in the cab; in the world, come to that.

And this is nothing. This is nothing in the scheme of things, he reminds himself, because Bryn has done nothing in the scheme of things. Not to him. To Danny, for sure…and he feels the rage, acknowledges the rage and pushes it away, saves it for another time because the point is somewhere there is Saul. And Saul is what this is about. Saul is worth the time he spends in Bryn's company. Saul is worth every remark Bryn makes to him, every look he throws in Rusty's direction, every vicious thought that he knows is crossing Bryn's mind. He doesn't want to think about what Saul would say if he knew about the remarks and the looks and the thoughts.

The door is suddenly opened and he sees Danny in the doorway and realises that maybe there have been knocks and maybe his name has been called and possibly he just hasn't heard a thing.

* * *

He's been gone some time. Time enough for him to notice. And he's knocked and called softly and there's been no reply and somewhere at the back of his mind the memory rears its head and he has to act. Has to.

The door is no obstacle and he sees Rusty sat, lost in contemplation. Rusty looks up at him and he sees the strain around Rusty's eyes that Bryn has caused that Rusty doesn't want him to see. He notices the toll that Bryn is taking that Rusty doesn't want him to notice. He reads the turmoil that Bryn is creating that Rusty doesn't want him to read.

Rusty smiles and shakes his head and stares back down at his left hand.

"You know, if it just happened," Rusty muses in a quiet little voice that Danny almost doesn't recognise, "we could get on and deal with it."

"What?"

Rusty ignores the incredulity.

"You heard me. It happens. _He _happens. People survive this and worst. Michael did."

"Rus…?"

"He's all about the inevitable. He's all about the when." A pause. "I reckon I could cope." And Rusty's voice is soft and wondering and Danny hates everything he hears.

"Rusty…" And Danny falls to his knees beside Rusty and the bath. He reaches out and takes the hand Rusty is fixated on in his. "Rusty…"

There is so much that he wants to say and he can't trust himself to do so without screaming.

Rusty looks down at Danny and he smiles again.

"Thing is, I've never been one for accepting the inevitable."

"Me either." They were more about changing the odds into their favour.

There is silence and then…

"You thinking of proposing?" Rusty asks and he is Rusty once more.

* * *

_He has been pointed out along with two other men and they are standing huddled together in a separate room. The strangers are questioning all of them with harsh words he doesn't understand and the air of stupidity he has affected is easy to maintain. The two other patients he is stood with are also bewildered and the three of them blink up at their interrogators. They are all of an age and similar description, he realises and he guesses that if they are indeed looking for him all they have to work on is a vague type._

_He shivers. A rough description is not going to protect him for long._

* * *

Before they meet Bryn downstairs, Rusty tries Michael again. The phone rings for what seems like forever and then it's answered.

"Rusty?"

Breathed. Whispered, even. He knows at once that something is wrong.

"What is it, Michael?" And Danny's head turns round at the tone in his voice.

"Is he…where…"

"We're in Paris. Bryn's with us. What is it?"

There's a half-choke and a swallowed sob and all he can hear is Michael trying not to cry.

"It's OK, it's OK," Rusty comforts helplessly and then the line goes dead and he frowns at the phone. "Sounded like…"

He stops and lets out a heavy sigh and looks at Danny.

"Sounded like Bryn paid him another visit."

Danny swears and they both react as the phone in Rusty's hand rings.

"It's me," Michael says unnecessarily and he has more control. "I'm sorry."

"No, no…" And Rusty is biting his lip because Michael has nothing to apologise for. Before he can say anything else, Michael plunges on.

"Listen. The search in Poland. They were already looking in Germany and Poland and Russia but they narrowed their search radius last night. I tracked back. Bryn called Hobbs."

"He did what?" Rusty snaps.

"He called Hobbs. I've been tapping Hobbs and Jamieson. After our conversation. I got the phone call on tape. He told Hobbs he was working at the problem from the other side. That Hobbs could trust him just like in Guyana. That Hobbs should make sure his men concentrate all their efforts on the towns close to the railway line. To check out the hospitals. To look for an old man who doesn't belong. His name still carries weight with Hobbs I guess."

Danny's been listening and Rusty can tell he feels as sick about it all as he does. Even if the wolves were already looking, Bryn's guided them closer to Saul.

"He didn't say he didn't know Hobbs," Danny says quietly.

"If Saul…" Rusty doesn't want to think about it.

Danny pulls the phone from his fingers, an idea occurring.

"Michael, it's Danny. Can you do us a favour?"

* * *

They travel down in the elevator and talk possibilities.

"Jean-Claude?"

"Not enough weight."

"I take it you don't mean that literally. Man is a mountain. Martineau?"

"This time of year? Out of the country."

Danny sighs heavily. Because really there is only one option. And he'd been hoping to avoid it. He glances at Rusty and Rusty is smiling. In spite of everything, Rusty is smiling.

"Oh, you can quit that," he scowls.

"She might not be-"

"She will be," Danny is certain. "Of course, she will be."

* * *

Bryn is waiting for them.

"I want to put some feelers out. See where Jamieson is. What he's up to."

"You sure you're backing the right pony?" Danny asks. "Hobbs was in the frame too, wasn't he?"

Bryn makes a dismissive noise. "Jamieson's got more ambition. I plan to start with him."

He checks his watch and looks over at the pair of them.

"I don't need you with me," he says baldly. "Actually, I don't want you with me."

"That's not what we agreed," Rusty says sharply and Bryn gives him a cool look.

"Oh, I know very well what's agreed. I am very mindful of what I've agreed to, Rusty. Rus. Can I call you Rus?"

Rusty's mouth sets in a tight line and Bryn grins.

"Three of us charging around is going to draw attention and the people I need to speak to will run scared. Plus I can't imagine what the pair of you are going to bring to the party." He glances back at Rusty. "Apart from decoration."

"We're coming with you, Bryn," Danny says firmly.

"No, Danny-boy, you're not. I can work this part so much better on my own. You take in some sights. Visit the Gare du Nord. Do some trainspotting. I'll be back this evening."

"No," Rusty insists.

"Yes. Rus. Yes. Get used to the idea that your input is not needed. I'll see you in the hotel bar about eight."

He disappears and Rusty and Danny watch him go.

"We didn't want to go with him," Rusty points out.

_Still._

_Still._

Still. The dismissal smarts.

* * *

They stand outside the smartly painted townhouse and Rusty rings the bell.

"It's all so unnecessary," Danny says à propos of nothing. Except it's à propos of something. And Rusty knows what.

As Danny has predicted, _she _is in. She is in to them.

The drawing room is full of chintz and satin and chaise longues and heavy drapes and the butler asks them to wait while Madame descends. They are debating whether the Monet is real (and the decision is yes) and as a sideline whether he married his mistress or died from syphilis. Then the double doors open and she glides in, full of magnificence.

"Daniel! Robert!" Both names delivered with delight and a heavy French accent.

"Duchesse," they chorus and they bend their heads and take her outstretched hands to kiss.

"Oh, mes jeunes," Duchesse says fondly. "Vous me manquez beaucoup."

They straighten up and look at the plump, middle-aged woman, face full of powder and rouge. She is permed and painted and petite, dressed in a smart emerald green velvet dress with a sweetheart neckline. Marie-Andrée Larousse aka La Duchesse is an acquaintance of theirs whose appearance belies a sharp intellect. She is also a top Parisian fence. And her name carries influence in many circles.

"You don't change, Duchesse," Danny says gallantly and she giggles.

"Neither do you, Daniel, neither do you."

She motions them to sit down and they accept the rich chocolate liqueurs the butler pours for them, Rusty a little more happily than Danny.

"So," Duchesse says, settling back on satin cushions. "As marvellous as it is to see the both of you – and it is, vraiment – I know you want to ask me something."

"Ah, Duchesse…" Danny shakes his head and plays the little comedy of manners. "How could you think that?"

"As if we would need a reason to come calling," Rusty adds.

She laughs and it is rich and vibrant. "You may ask me." Her eyes are on Danny. "I am happy for you to ask me, Daniel. I give you permission."

Danny is refusing to look at Rusty who is busying himself with the liqueur to keep the grin from showing. Danny puts his own glass down on a little enamelled side table and then drops to one knee before Duchesse and takes her hand in his.

"Duchesse, we would crave your indulgence and ask for you to arrange a meeting."

"Il est beau, n'est-ce pas?" Duchesse mutters softly and Rusty chokes back a choke.

"Bien sûr," he agrees, even though he is fairly certain the question was rhetorical.

"It is important? This meeting?" Her free hand caresses the top of Danny's hand, fingers idly tracing circles.

"It is," Danny nods gravely.

The decision hangs in the air for a moment as Duchesse considers. Because many seek her favour and she does not have to grant a thing. She has no need. But once her word is given, she holds herself accountable. She studies Danny's face and there is the earnest and the sincere and the need. Her eyes flick over to Rusty who is sitting watching and his eyes are also full of the serious and the tense and they both wait. Then she smiles happily.

"Then for you, of course, of course, I will make it happen."

"Thank you, Duchesse." And Danny kisses her hand again, this time with much more feeling.

"Merci," Rusty adds. And there is relief in his voice. "Merci beaucoup."

* * *

_They have squinted at something – a photo, he guesses – and they have talked amongst themselves and then they have pushed one of the men back to the ward. They have made him dress. Him and the other man. And the pair of them are being escorted outside to a little truck and encouraged on to the back of it. One of the men swings himself up behind the wheel and he sits with his fellow detainee amongst empty sacks which once contained potatoes as the other three men hem them in._

_It isn't looking good._

_

* * *

_

A/N: The French, and I hope I have it correctly, is:

"Mes jeunes...vous me manquez beaucoup" = "My young men...I have missed you very much"

"Vraiment" = "Truly"

"Il est beau, n'est-ce pas?" = "He is handsome, isn't he?"

"Bien sur" = "Indeed"

"Merci beaucoup" = "Thank you very much"


	15. Cards on the Table

An Unholy Alliance by InSilva

Disclaimer: just playing, do not own.

A/N: so, a few things.

First of all, this hasn't been updated in a few weeks but it doesn't mean I haven't been working on it. I have and I needed to write further and have someone I trust read and make sure everything hung together in the way I wanted it to. The someone also needed to be generally brilliant and patient especially when putting up with me yelling "Bloody Bryn!" at them. And they were. They are. And of course, it's otherhawk who has been…well, herself and I am grateful beyond the capacity of Lake Tahoma that she helps me pick up the stitches I drop.

Secondly, I hope you're still reading this fic otherwise I'm talking to myself. Huh. Back to trees falling in forests and them still being weird.

Lastly, have debated about moving this chapter up to an "M" but have decided against. But know that it's borderline in my head in an inexplicitly explicit way. A couple of later chapters will be standalone "M"s but I will try to remember to tell you at the end of the previous and the start of the next. Sorry, chaps, but what can I say? It's Bryn.

Chapter Fifteen: Cards on the Table

* * *

Chou-Chou is occupying Danny's lap and staring with her deep brown eyes up at Danny as if he is her lord and master. Danny is staring back at her with deep misgivings.

"Oh, look at ma petite chienne," Duchesse coos, walking back into the room, leaning over the side of the chaise longue and stroking the poodle's head. "Elle t'aime, Daniel."

"Yeah…"

He shoots a sideways glance at Rusty who is sitting in the chair next to him. As Danny fears, there is a blue-eyed gleam.

_You're not going to let me forget this in a hurry, are you?_

Rusty's smile is broad.

_I just wish I had a camera._

"I have made the call," Duchesse announces, business-like. "And he will visit."

Danny smiles. Even Chou-Chou licking his fingers cannot stop the smile.

* * *

_The truck is slow and there are stops but even so, he cannot help dreading that every minute is taking him closer to somewhere he does not want to be._

_The men are taciturn and can handle themselves but they are not unkind. It doesn't mean they couldn't start to be._

_He bides his time and waits for a chance. _

* * *

The men he has met have a common reaction: surprise, apprehension and fear. He is pleased that all these years later, he can still produce the right effect.

The information he is gleaning is also satisfying. He can use it. And _how_ he can use it…he can see a path that leads him to the diamonds. A path that leads him to a position of absolute control. A path that will leave _them _broken and vulnerable and allow him to witness that, to revel in it and then, _then_ to break them further.

He can hardly wait.

* * *

The butler ushers the man in and closes the door behind him. The man is small and neat and suspicious and Danny and Rusty are certain that the only thing that has brought him to the meeting is Duchesse.

The stranger nods courteously at Duchesse and then turns to them.

"I'm a busy man." It's the first thing he says and he digs into his waistcoat and takes out a gold fob watch to check the time as if to demonstrate the point. "What do you want to say to me?"

Danny and Rusty exchange glances. There is so much riding on this meeting. It's about Saul. It's about Bryn. It's about living their lives out of the shadow. With suitable reverence and the latitude afforded by Duchesse vouching for them, they embark on swift explanation with a degree of honesty because some names need to be protected and some need not. In fact, it is essential that some are not.

Danny produces the trump card that backs up their story and the man listens to it without saying a word. When they are finished, there is a silence and they wait.

They are gambling but it is a gamble they need to take. The man is digesting the information and he looks from one to the other, as if weighing up exactly how far he can trust them, how much to believe.

Eventually, he nods.

"Here is my personal number. Keep in touch."

* * *

_They stop for the night at a farmhouse and one by one in turn, the men guarding them disappear inside to warmth and food and drink. Bread and cheese are brought out to them together with half a bottle of wine that the old man next to him grabs and gulps._

_Chewing on a piece of bread, he contemplates escape. They are in the middle of nowhere and night is falling and the men who would chase after him have at least thirty years' headstart. Still he is going to try._

_The truck is moved into a barn and he settles down under the piles of empty sacks, watchful and waiting._

* * *

"What do you think?" Danny asks as they leave a sighing Duchesse – "Au revoir, mes cheris" - and an unhappy Chou-Chou behind.

"I think you haven't lost it."

_Not that. _Exasperated.

"I don't think we could have sold it better," Rusty says quietly.

"We can't trust him," Danny sighs. "And we're going to have to."

Rusty shrugs. "How many people _do_ we trust?"

* * *

Come eight o'clock, Bryn is sitting at a table in the hotel bar waiting for them.

"Had a good day, boys?" he smiles lazily. "Miss me?"

"What did you find out?" Danny asks, sitting down opposite him.

"If anything," Rusty adds, taking a seat alongside Danny.

Bryn chuckles. "Nice to see you both too."

His eyes settle on Rusty and the look of lustful anticipation that has been in them since he saw Rusty in Gerard's office is still there.

"Have you grown deaf?" Danny asks with a fierce undertone of warning. He is through letting Bryn enjoy himself at their expense without challenge.

Bryn's eyes snap over to him.

"Careful, Danny-boy…" he murmurs then he sits up in his chair and leans across the table. "Alright. Jamieson is in town. There's a lot of activity going on at his place and security is tight. Especially in the inner sanctum where he operates. We need to get through that cordon and find out what's going on."

He looks from one to the other and there is a glint in his eye that neither of them likes the look of.

"There's a way in," Bryn says and Danny and Rusty wait. "The Hellfire Club."

He smiles at their blank looks. "Hellfire Club. Paris's best kept secret. I'm a member. So's Jamieson. In fact, he's a regular and he's going to be there tomorrow night."

"What sort of club is it?" Danny asks, feeling as if he knows the answer already.

"A very friendly sort," Bryn says helpfully. "Gentlemen only."

And they both get the picture.

"I was thinking," Bryn goes on, "that we could carry out a little undercover work."

Danny frowns. "You said you were a member. Why would you need to go undercover?"

Bryn just smiles and Rusty says heavily, "Oh, he doesn't mean that at all."

Danny stares at Rusty and the realisation washes over him in a cold rush.

"No," he says low and insistent and he's talking to both of them.

Rusty's eyes are on Bryn.

"Wouldn't be so bad, would it?" Bryn asks mildly, smiling up at him. "Dressing the part. Leading someone on. Nothing you haven't done before."

"You are not putting him out there as bait!" Danny is passionate.

"Why not?" Bryn looks over at Danny and his eyes are sharp. "You did. And look what you reeled in."

The tightness claws inside Danny's chest and up his throat and he clamps his jaw shut. Because if he could alter what happened ten years ago, he would do. He would go back and they would find another way and he would keep Rusty as far away from Bryn as humanly possible. And if he had known what would happen, he would have called the world to keep them out of the jail.

"Tell me how it works," Rusty instructs tersely, staring unblinking at Bryn who meets his gaze.

"You'd come along as my…contribution to the evening. My guest." It sounds like a correction except this is Bryn and it doesn't quite sound like a correction at all. He glances at Danny. "Don't worry, it's perfectly civilised. He'll be there to be admired. For people to look at and worship." He grins. "Well, fantasise about." He grins again. "Well…"

"Enough," Danny cuts him off with a savage word.

"Jamieson would be your target. You'd just need to get close enough to him to catch his interest. How far you go is up to you but we'd need you to be invited back to his place. You think you could manage that?"

_Rusty…_ But Rusty isn't looking at Danny.

"Before was ten years ago," Rusty reminds Bryn. "Before was…I'm hardly-"

"Oh, believe me, you'll do just fine," Bryn assures him. "The way you look…" He tails off and his eyes travel over Rusty and his tongue flicks up to his lips.

Danny is watching Rusty's face and he knows he is thinking back to the hotel bar and the first meeting with Bryn. The tension is rushing through Rusty's body and he can see how much Rusty hates the idea. And in spite of all that, Rusty is going to agree to it. He can tell.

"If I get invited back to Jamieson's, what happens next?"

Bryn's face lights up and a snarl forms on Danny's face and Rusty says with a growl, "How does it help us get closer to Saul?"

"There will be the opportunity to overhear and observe. And Jamieson will not suspect a piece of ass that he picks up to play with. You'll be in prime position to find out the inside line. And if your friend is brought there…"

And now, Rusty glances at Danny.

_No. Please. No. Rusty, don't._

And everything is in it. In spite of Bryn watching.

Rusty exhales. And he flashes the quickest of replies back to Danny.

_Have to._

"Alright," he says. "I'll do it. I'll go to the club and I'll make a play for Jamieson."

"I'm going with you," Danny says immediately.

"Wouldn't expect anything less, Danny-boy," Bryn nods. "I can take more than one guest. Tomorrow, we go and recce Jamieson's place in the morning and in the afternoon, I've persuaded a tailor that I know to open up for a little private fitting."

At Danny and Rusty's questioning looks, he adds, "You have to dress the part, remember?"

* * *

_There is the sound of snoring at his side and other than that, there is stillness. He slips down from the truck and makes his way to the door. As he reaches for the handle, a flashlight pins him to the spot. _

_The man wielding it stares at him and he mimes the need to answer a call of nature. The man nods and opens the door._

_He walks out into darkness until a hand taps his shoulder to indicate he has gone far enough. He sighs. He can't outrun the man. As he relieves himself to keep up the story, he is already thinking about the next opportunity and hoping that there will be one._

* * *

The three head for the elevator together, Bryn slightly in front. There are people waiting and more people arrive behind them and somehow as the elevator doors open and the throng surges forward, Rusty finds himself staring at Bryn and Danny on the inside of an elevator while he remains resolutely on the outside. Danny is too far back to step out again and there is no room for Rusty.

_I'll take the stairs._

He sees Danny nod and then, as the doors close, he sees the flicker of a smile on Bryn's face and it sets his teeth on edge.

* * *

"Alright, Danny-boy, you got enough room?"

He has. Just about. He's grateful his immediate neighbours are anyone but Bryn.

"Pity he couldn't squeeze in. Bit of a squash." Bryn's grin is wide. "Can't say I'd have minded."

Bryn smiles down at the young woman he is invading the personal space of in an entirely socially acceptable way.

"Being pressed up close to someone. Having someone press up close to you. No, I don't think I'd have minded at all."

He grins at the look she gives him and glances back at Danny who wonders whether Bryn might do the world a favour and swallow his own tongue.

* * *

The flights of stairs disappear beneath his feet and he sprints down the hotel corridor towards their room, cursing the fact that it seems to be located as far away as humanly possible.

Bryn can't be planning anything…he couldn't have organised their separation…but Bryn doesn't need to do anything more than seize the moment. And that frightens Rusty more than he wants to admit.

With fingers that will not function with their usual dexterity, he digs into his pocket three times before he grasps the room key. He fumbles it into the lock then turns the handle and steps into the room

* * *

Bryn sees Rusty enter and he smiles broadly as Rusty's gaze falls on Danny, tied to the chair beside him. Bryn can almost taste the apprehension in the air.

Danny is gagged tightly but Bryn can still read every word.

_Get out of here, Rus._

"Oh, that won't be happening any time soon. Will it? Rus?"

He sees Rusty's eyes close and open and he hears Danny say _Rusty, _begging him to listen. He watches as unspoken words are exchanged and the upshot is Danny bowing his head and Rusty looking up at him. Waiting. Waiting for him. Waiting for him to call the shots. The thrill rushes through him.

"Do you like to gamble? You strike me as the type. Thought we'd play a little game to pass the time." He produces three playing cards and writes a word on each. "Why don't you choose?"

Rusty looks at the outstretched, facedown cards.

Bryn grins. "C'mon," he says casually. "Your choice."

There is an inarticulate noise from Danny. Rusty keeps his poker face.

"Ground rules," Danny demands.

A shrug from Bryn. "Well, it's certainly within the rules." He looks at Rusty. "Oh, I'll abide by whatever card you pull. Tell you what. Seems a shame for Danny not to be invited to join in-"

"No. I mean it." Rusty is definite.

Bryn ignores him.

"So, I'll also let you choose which of us. But…the one you don't choose? They get to watch."

He sees Rusty's mouth draw into a tight line. His hand flashes out and plucks one of the cards…

_Ace of Diamonds. _

"Kiss…well, if you choose me it'll hardly be the first time. I lose count. But it shouldn't be hard." He grins. "Oh hell, what am I saying? It's hard as anything."

Rusty moves closer to Danny who looks up at him, mouth working against the gag, pleading with his eyes. Bryn sees a sad little smile flit over Rusty's face and then Rusty is standing in front of him.

"Tell me how it works," Rusty instructs. _You want to kiss me?_

"Nooo," Bryn corrects him. "I'm not laying a finger on you, remember?"

"Alright." And Rusty takes a breath. "I'll do it."

"Rusty, don't…" Bryn can hear the rawness in Danny's voice and he loves it. So very much to play with.

Then Rusty moves forward and presses his lips briefly to Bryn's before pulling away. There's unwilling and tense and intense dislike in there.

"Oh, you can do better than that," Bryn admonishes. "I want you to kiss me like you mean it."

_Rusty, don't…_

"Are you watching closely?" Bryn asks Danny, his eyes not moving from Rusty's face. "I'd hate you to miss a thing."

And he can feel the pain and the hatred emanating from Danny. It feels wonderful.

Rusty leans in, eyes closed and Bryn pulls back.

"You keep your eyes open. I like to watch."

Again, Rusty moves forward and his lips meet Bryn's, his tongue flicking up against Bryn's seeking entry, gaining entry, exploring and tasting; all the time, Bryn's eyes stay on his, seeing the disgust and the loathing and revelling in it.

Rusty breaks free and Bryn smiles.

"Not bad. Not bad at all."

He looks down at the two cards in his hand. "Have another go."…

_Ace of Hearts._

…the second card has been chosen and so has he and he is moving inside Rusty's mouth, that pretty, pretty mouth and there is revulsion in Rusty's eyes and he delights in the sensation and the spectacle and he grins over at Danny, who has tears running down his face…

"Good at this, isn't he?"

_Please, please. _Danny is begging _him_ now and he sighs happily…

_Ace of Spades._

…the third and final card remains and this time he says "My turn" and loves the sight of Rusty shaking, shaking and open and vulnerable and…

…Rusty is on his front and beneath him and facing Danny and he is riding him hard, his fingers wrapped in Rusty's hair, his fingers digging into smooth, smooth skin and it's all about power, conquest, triumph. Danny is sobbing like he'll never stop and by contrast, Rusty is silent. Well, that's not right. He'll have to do something about that…

…Rusty is staring up at him with complete abhorrence and he thinks he has never seen a more rousing sight.

"I can go like this all night," he promises and the abject look on Rusty's face just makes him impossibly harder…

Enough sex. Time for the violence…

_Ace of Clubs. Up his sleeve…_

…later, and he really has no clue on time, he has finished with Rusty who is lying curled up in a little ball on the floor. He walks over to Danny who is white and angry and desolate and he smiles down at him. It should be wrong to feel this good --

-- Bryn stares up at the ceiling of his room, lying on top of his bed, sweating and with adrenaline and excitement pumping through him. He lies and listens to his heart racing. It's been a while since he's played "Kiss, suck or fuck". Mmm. Well, it's not like he's forgotten the rules.

He closes his eyes and thinks again about his plan and he can't stop smiling.

* * *

Rusty steps into the room and Danny is stood by the window. He turns and sees the concern on Rusty's face.

"I thought…"

Danny shakes his head. "Nothing. Nothing out of the ordinary. Rusty-"

"Don't start. I'm doing it."

Danny crosses the room and puts a hand on Rusty's arm.

"Rusty. It's not just another part."

"I know."

"And he's focusing on Jamieson. And we know it's Hobbs who's after Saul."

"I know."

"So why?"

Rusty tilts his head on one side.

"We can't let him know that we know about Hobbs. And there has to be more to this than Bryn getting his kicks out of setting me up with another man. I was studying his face when he was proposing it. He's serious about this. He wants an inroad in to Jamieson's place. Maybe I was right."

"When?"

"You needn't sound like it's unusual," Rusty says, amused. "When I said Hobbs and Jamieson were working together."

Danny considers. "A joint coup?"

"Yeah. Hobbs chases the diamonds down-"

"-and they use Jamieson's place as a base."

"Spreads the risk."

"Shares the blame."

"Puts them in bed together."

_Don't._

_Sorry._

"OK. I accept that there's the chance that they're working together. And I accept the strong possibility that Bryn knows it. This Hellfire Club is just too-"

"Danny. It'll either work or it won't. We've got nothing to lose. And if it gets me inside and in a position where I can find out information…"

"If it gets you inside, you'll be on your own."

"Yes."

"On your own with Jamieson."

"Yes."

"Rusty."

"It's why tomorrow when we go scouting, we find another way in."

_For me._

_For you._

Danny exhales then pulls a face.

_What?_

"I bet it involves crawling through something disgusting."

Rusty nods slowly.

"If at all possible," he promises solemnly.


	16. Prelude

An Unholy Alliance by InSilva

Disclaimer: oh…not mine. Never ever.

Chapter Sixteen: Prelude

* * *

Jamieson's chateau is on the outskirts of Paris, set in large grounds.

"It's old," Bryn says unnecessarily as they watch from the cover of trees, a little way away.

"Can see why you like it," Rusty remarks.

"How many men?" Danny asks.

Bryn shrugs. "Varies. At the moment, the troops have been called home. Jamieson's men are flooding the place."

"They're not out looking for Saul, then." Danny injects a casual note into his voice.

Bryn looks at him for a long moment. "Others are," he says shortly.

Danny pounces. "What others?"

There is a sigh and then reluctantly, "Jamieson has access to other resources."

"Resources other than his own men?" Rusty wants clarification.

"Yes." Hissed.

"And they're bringing Saul here?" Danny keeps up the interrogation.

"Probably," Bryn snaps. "That's kind of what we need to find out."

Rusty is studying the chateau through binoculars.

"Ways in."

"Main door. Back door. Windows. All guarded or alarmed."

Rusty nods. As expected.

"Other ways in."

Bryn flicks him a glance. "Tunnel. Underneath. Leading to the family church." He jerks his head at the building behind him.

"And you know this because…" Danny is intent on pinning down Bryn's knowledge.

"Made it my business to know." Bryn's brows draw down. "Jamieson shot his mouth off once too often…"

He doesn't finish the sentence and Rusty and Danny fill in the blanks. Jamieson may not have known who Bryn was but that wouldn't have stopped him commenting on jobs that Bryn has been involved with. And Bryn wouldn't take that kind of criticism happily. They can see him exploring the chateau, learning the layout, looking for weaknesses. Bryn would like the power of knowing, the power to surprise…

"And it's a route through to the house?" Rusty checks.

Bryn is silent.

"Is it?" Danny insists.

"Comes up in the cellar."

"Well, if we have this way in, what's with the Hellfire Club?" Danny wants to know.

"Because, Danny-boy, we need to find out what Jamieson's up to. When the diamonds are arriving. Because once he's got them, we've lost. No diamonds. No Saul. Got that?"

He glares at the pair of them.

"Alright," Rusty nods. "So if I'm on the inside and find out Saul is there or on his way…"

"Then once you're out, we can get in through the tunnel and find him."

"How do we get Rusty out?"

"We organise a little distraction. Don't worry," Bryn grins at Danny. "His ass will be safe."

* * *

They're back in the city centre and Bryn has led them to the tailor, tucked down a side street.

"I'm going to grab a paper. You two go on in."

Monsieur Alphonse is waiting and lets them into the shop.

"Ah, oui, oui. I have been expecting you," he beams. "I have my instructions. If you care to wait here, sir," he indicates a chair for Danny, "and if you, sir, would like to follow me."

He leads Rusty to the changing room, opens the curtain and ushers Rusty in.

"If you need any assistance, sir, please call me."

Rusty looks at the clothes hanging up in disbelief. This can't be for real…

* * *

Danny looks up as Rusty walks back into the room and does a double take. The white T is form fitting and hugs Rusty's body, cut tight to show off muscle definition. It is not the T that Danny's eyes are drawn to. The leather pants are…

"Obscene is the word you're searching for," Rusty says helpfully, his face so full of anger that Danny would have laughed if it hadn't all been so… "And before you ask whether or not I'm wearing…the answer is no."

"Oh, I can see no. Anyone can see no. Believe me, no one's going to be asking the question."

"This…" Rusty tails off and gestures down at the outfit. "Seriously!"

"Wow."

It is a word full of salacious approval and Rusty's shoulders sag. Bryn is in the doorway.

"Oh my…" Bryn closes the door, his eyes all over him and Rusty forces himself not to react.

"I have to wear this?" Rusty asks tightly.

"If I had my way, all the time."

"Tonight," Danny spits, getting to his feet and moving towards Rusty.

"Oh, no. Tonight's a black tie do."

What _did he say?_

"Black tie…" Danny repeats slowly.

"Oh, yeah," Bryn says, his eyes still nowhere near either of their faces. "Sure I mentioned it. We're here to pick up our tuxes."

"Tuxes?" Rusty says as if he can't quite believe his ears.

"Yeah…" The word is happy and drawn out and Danny and Rusty badly, badly want to…

"Get out." Rusty is approaching incandescence. "Get out!"

Eyes flashing, he launches himself towards Bryn and Danny moves to intercept, wrapping his arms round Rusty and holding him back before he can do something he regrets.

"You're beautiful when you're angry," Bryn tells him. "Alphonse, you got my tux?"

"Here, monsieur." Alphonse hands it over.

"Thank you. And please see that my friends are suitably attired." He turns to them. "We leave the hotel at seven. Be on time."

He clicks his tongue appreciatively at Rusty then walks out of the shop. Rusty shakes Danny off as Alphonse disappears in search of suits.

"I so want to…" Rusty's voice is rich with rage.

"Rus."

"Bastard!" he spits.

"Rus."

Rusty turns fury-filled eyes on Danny and there is a moment of mutual Brynloathing and then Rusty lets go of the anger and lets out a soft, humourless chuckle and looks down at himself.

_I_ hate _the fact that he can play us._

"We're going to nail him," Danny promises quietly.

"We so are."

* * *

_The truck is slowing and as the late afternoon sun sets, he sees the outline of the building. Fancy architecture. Like a Disney princess's castle. He feels certain it's not going to contain a happy ever after._

* * *

"Head up."

Danny has been quiet since the return from the tailor and has hardly said a word as he's dressed himself. Now he has taken it upon himself to fasten Rusty's bow tie. His fingers busy themselves with the silk and Rusty watches him doing his best not to look at him.

"Tell me," he says eventually when it's obvious that Danny's not volunteering.

Danny says nothing and concentrates on the knot. Rusty takes his hands in his and pulls them away from the tie.

_Tell me._

Unwillingly, Danny lifts his gaze and Rusty can read the guilt: a bottomless pit of it.

"What?" And there is bewilderment. "Danny?"

Danny is silent and then he closes his eyes.

"That night. The first night. With Bryn. When I sent you to him as bait."

There is self-loathing in the last part and Rusty is quick to knock it away. "It was my suggestion. I knew what I was doing."

Danny's face is tight with misery and self-recrimination.

"I followed you," he whispers. "I saw you in the bar with Bryn. I saw him…" he swallows. "I saw the way he looked at you. I knew…damn it, I knew what he wanted to do to you. It was written all over his face."

He stares down at his fingers wrapped in Rusty's. "I knew. And I let it happen."

Rusty's fingers tighten. "You stopped him, Danny," he says gently. "Remember? You came for me."

"I should have done something earlier," Danny is vehement. "I could have done. You should never have been alone with him."

"Danny…" And Rusty's fingers find his face. "It was a con that went wrong. That's all. No one's fault. And yes, it could have been worse than it was. But we got through it. Like we always have done. Like we always do."

And they do. They always do.

* * *

In his room, Bryn looks at the evening dress hanging up and plays the evening forward in his head. If Rusty and Danny weren't as close as they are, if finding Saul Bloom wasn't a priority, it might play out differently. As it is, he cannot see another way it can go.

He fingers the black plastic. The little surprise he has been waiting to share with them. He smiles. He has finally found the perfect place to do so.

There is a quick knock on his door and he puts the trump card down on the side.

Bryn opens the door to his visitor and his smile grows. His evening has already got off to a very good start.

* * *

_They've been taken inside and they've been patted down yet again and taken into a room._

_The first thing he sees is that they are not alone. Four other men are there and they are all of similar build and height. They're looking for a type and he thinks of the photo and he imagines blurry CCTV footage and his heart leaps at the thought that they do not know whom they are looking for. That has to be a good thing. He must be able to use that. He must be able to hide._

_And yet…the men who searched them haven't been that thorough. Cursory at best. Which implies they are waiting for something or someone…someone who knows…_

_He thinks about whom that might be…about his contact in Amsterdam, the inside man… He swallows. He isn't going to remain invisible for long._

* * *

Rusty and Danny are waiting for Bryn. There have been many admiring glances and another time, another place, there would have been amusement and banter and maybe even a scorecard. But not right now. Right now, they are focused on what the evening will bring.

The hotel is full of guests coming in late from shopping or heading out early to theatres and restaurants. Among the expected crowd, a young boy stands out. He doesn't belong. As he emerges from the elevator and crosses reception, Rusty's eyes lock on to him. He looks barely sixteen. He is blond and he wears his hair short. He is moving awkwardly and his mouth is swollen and his eyes… Rusty takes a step towards him but the boy startles like a deer and runs.

"What's that about?" Danny asks.

"Not sure…" There has been something in the boy's eyes that he thinks he recognises but he can't be certain and the boy's gone.

Ten minutes later, the elevator opens again and Bryn steps out, immaculately dressed. He lets out a wolf whistle when he sees Rusty.

"Ready, boys?"

And his complete self assurance contrasts with the tension in Rusty and the foreboding in Danny. Because the evening has been planned by Bryn. And only one of the three of them is happy about that.


	17. Smoke and Mirrors

An Unholy Alliance by InSilva

Disclaimer: do not own them and right now, they're not returning my calls.

Chapter Seventeen: Smoke and Mirrors

* * *

The Hellfire Club is in an old, upmarket quarter of Paris. The entrance is manned by two well-stuffed suits who are models of decorum and diplomacy and who would definitely not think twice about showing an unauthorised visitor the error of his ways.

"I'm a member," Bryn says smoothly, "although it's been a while since I visited the city. My name will be on record. And I've brought two guests to sign in."

His voice is commanding and the men do not hesitate. They usher the three of them in to a vestibule where a man in a red jacket is waiting to meet and greet.

"Monsieur Gower! Oh, it has been too long."

"Bernard. Always a pleasure. I'm afraid I don't have my card with me…"

"Not to worry, monsieur."

Bernard clicks his fingers and a lackey approaches.

"Accompany Monsieur Gower and complete a replacement membership card. Are these your guests, monsieur?"

"Yes. One is my contribution to the evening," his head tilts slightly towards Rusty, "and the other is here to see if it's the kind of club that would have him as a member."

"Very good. We will sign them in as your guests on your number."

"Stay here, boys. Spot of admin to take care of."

Bryn disappears and Danny and Rusty are left standing looking after him.

"What's with the 'contribution'?" Rusty frowns. "That's the second time he's said it."

"Don't know. And I don't like."

_Rus…_

"Danny, don't. Please."

"It's not too late. We can walk out of the door now. We can find another way tomorrow."

"What if Saul hasn't got tomorrow?"

And they are back to the irrefutable argument.

* * *

Bryn returns with a guest membership card for each of them and smiles as Danny snatches Rusty's away from him to hand over himself. Bryn leads the way wordlessly into the main room. It is sizeable with a bar at one end and it is thronged with men in evening dress. Waiters circulate discreetly with champagne on trays and there is a small raised area at one side where a string quartet is playing. It could be a formal gathering in any part of the world.

"Civilised," Danny comments.

"You sound surprised," Bryn smiles. "Whatever did you expect?"

"Where's Jamieson?" Rusty asks.

Bryn's eyes scan the room.

"Over there by the bar. Small guy with eyes like pissholes in the snow. Wearing the white bow tie."

"Right," Rusty nods and heads in Jamieson's direction.

Jamieson is the only man wearing a white bow tie in the room and Rusty wonders whether he just wants to make a fashion statement or stand out from the crowd or whether his other bow tie is in the wash. He is solid and sixty and maybe the bow tie is to match his hair. He works his way up to the bar till he is next but one to Jamieson.

"Whisky," he orders and leans casually against the gold rail, carelessly posed, his body turned in Jamieson's direction.

The man next to him moves away and Rusty flicks a glance at Jamieson and catches his eye. Rusty holds the glance for a second longer than society would deem polite and then drops his gaze and tilts his head and looks up again from underneath his lashes. Jamieson has not taken his eyes off him.

"Here you are, monsieur," the bartender places the drink down in front of him and he pays for it and picks it up, feeling Jamieson's stare burning through him.

Rusty turns and meets Jamieson's gaze more openly and yes, there is interest. A great deal of interest. Jamieson looks as though he might want to declare it then and there in which case the evening would be short but successful. Before he can say a thing to Rusty, though, a hand is clapped on his shoulder and a fellow Hellfire member embroils him in conversation. Regretfully, Jamieson turns away from Rusty and smiles at the newcomer.

Rusty takes his whisky and heads back across the floor. Later. He is certain.

* * *

"You worried, Danny-boy?" Bryn asks as Rusty plays the little scene at the bar.

Well, he is. Of course, he is. He doesn't dignify the question with an answer.

"Worried about him feeling fingers where they shouldn't be?" He laughs and there is a note of exhilaration that jars.

Bryn is watching Rusty and Danny is studying Bryn. Because there is something about him tonight. He is…he is wired. Danny recognises the tightness. It's how he and Rusty are when the con is on, when the rollercoaster is just about to tip over the peak. Oh, he needs to keep his wits sharp.

"Look at him," Bryn says, appreciation in his voice.

Danny watches with him as Rusty walks back across the room; blond and beautiful, walking with his usual elegance of movement, a natural self-assurance wrapping itself around him. Men part as he moves through them and Danny does not want to think about the looks he is drawing.

"Sexy as hell, isn't he?" Bryn goes on. "Way he looks, way he moves…and damn he looks good in a tux." He glances up at Danny who is keeping his face neutral. "You want to know what every man in the room is thinking about right now?"

"Not every man," Danny corrects him and walks forward casually into the throng.

Rusty imperceptibly changes course so that they meet.

"It's a cattle market," Danny says in a low voice, rich with disgust.

"Yeah, I worked that out after the third guy felt my ass." He smiles at Danny's raised eyebrow. "Look, two is just a normal day."

"I don't like it, Rusty." And the directness and lack of banter show how very much Danny doesn't like it.

"Can't say I'm thrilled," Rusty answers, sobering up. "But we have a plan, don't we?"

"It's not my plan. That's the problem."

The lights suddenly dim and there are little squeals of delight around them. The string quartet long gone, a screen and projector descend from the ceiling above the raised area and they hear the man next to them exclaim "Showreel!" with enthusiasm.

_Showreel?_

_I hope it's not what I-oh! _

There is a small exhalation of distaste from Danny as naked bodies start to writhe on the screen to much excitement from the crowd. He and Rusty look at each other and then at the men around them, hemming them in, eyes bright, mouths parted, full of anticipation.

"Looks like feeding time at the zoo," Danny mutters as the video changes to show another couple in ecstasy.

Rusty risks a glance over Danny's shoulder. Bryn is not watching the activities on screen. He is watching them. Intently. And that cannot be a good thing.

"Rus, I don't want you here," Danny says suddenly. "Whatever Bryn's told us, he's got something else going on. He's wound up so damn tight. We'll find another way. Let's go."

Then from nowhere, they hear Bryn's voice:

"_You all set?" _

It's coming from the screen. Instinctively, they both look up to see Bryn looking down at them in close-up.

"_Sure, Bryn,"_ says a voice off camera. _"He's a hot one, yeah?"_

The smile appearing on Bryn's face is wide. _"He is. He has an extremely fuckable mouth."_

There is a pause and for once Danny wishes he didn't have the ability to read a face. Not that Bryn's takes much skill. It's easy to see what's running through his mind.

"_You taken care of his partner?"_

Bryn shrugs. _"They've got orders to split them up. Even if he's on his own when they find him, it won't matter. I'll just spin him a line. They're so wrapped up in each other, he'll do whatever I want just to keep him safe."_

There is a noise off camera and Bryn motions backwards. The cameraman withdraws into the shadows and in doing so, pans out to reveal the setting and Danny is suddenly glad the lights are down in the room because he doesn't want anyone to see his face at that moment. Rusty's hand reaches out instinctively and Danny clasps it in both of his. Neither can take their eyes off the screen.

It is a boiler room – _the _boiler room - and walking through the door is Rusty. Danny feels his grip on Rusty tighten; his desire to show Bryn some of the rage running through him is dangerously high. To have kept this…to show this here…

"A prison flick!" says the man next to them, elbowing Danny and Danny darts a glance at a face full of eagerness and Danny clenches his teeth.

The camera zooms in on Rusty's face and there is an audible gasp in the room. Even in the most desperate of times, he has the face of a god and the camera loves him.

"_Play nicely and I'll leave him intact,"_ Bryn says and Danny bites his lip as he understands the coated threat. Bryn knows exactly how to play them. He knows now and he knew back then.

"_Come here,_" Bryn demands and Rusty walks slowly over to him and Danny can see the resignation and the tension and above all, the taut self-control that is all that is holding Rusty together.

"He is fucking gorgeous," comes the mutter behind them and another voice replies, "He would be gorgeous to fuck."

There is laughter and then there is another conversation off to the left in French with no doubt similar substance and Danny starts to shake with anger. He cannot stand the demotion of wonder to mere commodity. He wants to take on the room on Rusty's behalf.

"Danny." It's quiet and it's miserable and most importantly, it is warning: it pulls him back from the edge. Saul. Jamieson. He needs to focus.

Bryn mentions his visit to Danny in his cell drawing reaction from Rusty and then Danny's shoulders sag as he sees Bryn getting his kicks, touching Rusty, and Rusty schooling himself not to react…Danny swallows. He can see just how close to losing it Rusty really is.

The cameraman is revealed and Bryn is smiling.

"_Even with the bruises, way you look, fish, I figure I'm going to be making money out of this tape for years to come."_

There is a chorus of wolf-whistles in the room at this point and Danny gives a little hiss of fury. He wants to break the projector or smash up the screen or do something – _anything – _to stop this. Bodies are pressing round them and there is not a thing he can do.

Up on the screen, Danny can see the feral pain in Rusty and then he hears Bryn say, "_Don't worry, I'm not going to make you do anything" _and he sees Rusty's eyes widen at this final horror. He watches helplessly as Rusty tries to manage the adrenaline, as the self-control starts to evaporate, as the tension runs through him and he reads the silent, vulnerable plea.

"Oh, Rusty," he whispers with a break in his voice and he feels Rusty's fingers knot into his.

The sprinklers start and the camera footage falters and dies and is replaced by another home-made movie. There is a resounding groan of disappointment from those around them watching and Danny feels the fury ready to spill over all over again.

"You still have an extremely fuckable mouth."

Bryn is standing right behind them.

Rusty's hand moves to Danny's arm and it is all that is holding Danny back. With difficulty, he reins in the emotion and he is aware of Rusty watching his eyes, watching till he is back in control. Gradually, the rage comes down from the heights and he gives a slight nod. He can deal and Rusty lets go.

They turn as one and Bryn is holding a glass of brandy, hand in pocket, amusement writ large on his face. He takes a drink and looks at them, waiting.

"I think you should give us a minute," Rusty says lightly and Bryn chuckles into his drink and wanders away.

"I could cheerfully kill him, you know." Danny's voice is even and mild. "I wouldn't even feel remorse." He turns to Rusty. "He…he…"

Rusty nods. "Yeah," he says quietly.

"We're getting that tape."

The lights go up and the screen disappears and an MC is up on the raised stage area.

"Gentlemen! If I can have your attention, please!"

There is a spotlight and a microphone and everyone shush-shushes into silence.

"If I can have our visitors up here with me."

Hesitantly, three young men – boys – join him as Rusty and Danny look on.

"We have one more…?" The MC peers out over the crowd.

"He means you." Bryn is back with them.

"Me?" Rusty frowns.

"Told you," Bryn sips his brandy. "You're my contribution to the evening."

Danny turns to him. "You failed to explain this part."

"Really?" Bryn's face is full of mock-frown. "I'm sure I must have mentioned…" He sips the brandy again calmly as the pair of them feel the floodgates of ire open.

"Look at Jamieson," Bryn says abruptly.

Rusty's eyes travel over to where Jamieson is stood. His eyes are bright, he's licking his lips and his attention is focused completely on the MC.

"You want to do what you're here for, you get up there." Bryn is serious.

_Don't you dare-_

_Saul, Danny._

"No." The feeling is so strong he needs to vocalise it. Even in front of Bryn.

Rusty holds his gaze and then breaks off and turns to Bryn.

"Tell me."

"Little competition for the pleasure of your company for the rest of the evening. After that little bit of film, I'd say you're made."

"Rest of the evening?" This from Danny. "You honestly think that's going to happen?"

"Oh, relax. Just dinner at the club. He won't leave the club."

There is truth in there. They can both sense it.

Rusty looks at Danny. "I'm doing it."

"You're not."

"Watch me."

Before Danny can stop him, he moves forward and there is a cheer. Danny turns to Bryn.

"Alright. What's going on?"

Bryn is still sipping his brandy. He shrugs. "It's a bit of a fund-raiser. Proceeds go to charity."

"Proceeds…?"

"Gentlemen," the MC clears his throat and takes hold of Rusty's arm, pulling him further forward into the spotlight. "I think we'll move straight to the star lot. What am I bid?"

Danny's eyes are on Rusty's.

_I can handle it._

_I can't. _

_Deal with it. _

There is uproar and Jamieson is shouting out with the rest of them.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen. Now, to be clear. The rooms are fully equipped and will be available for the winning bidder and his guest to make use of until morning."

_Rooms? _Rusty's eyes are suddenly wide.

"Rooms?" Danny whispers.

"Rooms," Bryn nods. "Told you. He won't leave the club."

Played. Yet again.

"This is stopping right now," Danny mutters and starts towards Rusty.

"Not wise," Bryn says sharply. "See the men at the side of the stage? Security. This is going ahead whatever you say or do."

"Like that's going to stop me trying!"

"There's another way. If you're so set on saving him from a-"

"Keep talking." Danny glares at him.

"Bid for him."

_Bid for him…_ Danny exhales slowly. He looks round the room. He can outbid anyone here and he will.

"OK."

He stares at Rusty.

_It'll be alright. _

And Rusty nods imperceptibly.

* * *

The bidding is fast and furious but it comes down to Jamieson and Danny and Danny is never going to lose that battle. Jamieson backs off disappointed as it all gets too rich and reaching for his wallet, Danny walks forward, through cheers and applause and wolf-whistles.

"You alright?" he mutters as he reaches Rusty's shoulder.

"Fine."

They look at each other and Danny reads the relief and the amusement and the exasperation.

_What?_

"Didn't you just defeat the whole point of the evening?"

"You can just say thank you, you know."

"I wouldn't worry." Bryn has found his way forward too. "Jamieson's even more eager to meet you. You always want what you can't get easily. Trust me, I know these things."

The Visa payment is taken and Danny takes Rusty by the elbow and as the other bidding continues, leads him to the door indicated by club staff. Away from the crowd, past security, past a welcoming Bernard, into a long hall with doors off and the two of them relax. Away from Bryn. Away from the crowd. Safe.

Danny pulls the bow tie loose around his neck and starts to breathe again. He knows now what Bryn had planned. Sharing the boiler room with the world at large. Humiliating Rusty with the auction. The man is…there is never going to be a satisfactory word to describe Bryn.

Rusty flashes a quick smile at him and Danny can read the relief and the reprieve. He smiles back.

"Your room, messieurs." A young man pushes a heavy metal door inwards.

The door opens on a low-ceilinged room, its walls painted red with a mural picked out in gold.

"I think this may be a version of the Kama Sutra," Danny suggests as they study the gilded figures – both male - in ever more improbable positions.

Their heads tilt simultaneously at one depiction.

"Oh, that can't be comfortable," Rusty frowns.

"You'd need a lot of upper body strength."

"You'd need a lot of everything."

They walk past the ornate table sat in front of the door and weighed down with food and drink. Danny picks up a bottle of champagne that's chilling.

"Veuve Clicquot. Very nice."

Rusty smiles. "Like you care."

"I care. I paid top dollar for you."

Behind the table, there is a door leading off and Rusty hits the lights. It's a marble bathroom with gold taps and a sunken bath and a shower cubicle. White fluffy towels that scream sumptuous are in evidence.

"Now that's a nice touch," Rusty remarks and Danny sees the cushioned kneeling pads inside the bath and shakes his head.

Back outside, they move to the other side of the room with a large velvet covered couch and a television and VCR plus a selection of movies.

"Any we're gonna want to watch?" Danny asks without much real hope as Rusty checks out the cassettes.

"Something tells me "Some Like It Hot" isn't the Billy Wilder version."

Behind the couch is a huge bed with a mirrored ceiling above it and surrounding the bed are various suggestions as to how the room's occupants might like to pass the time.

Danny tosses Rusty a whip.

"I know you fancy yourself as Indiana."

Rusty grins and carries on investigating the rail of costumes. He pulls out a toga.

"You can get that gleam out of your eye," he says without looking at Danny. "I am not playing Tony Curtis for any money."

Danny has moved on to the objects on the bedside table. There are handcuffs, fur-lined and otherwise and condoms and lubricants and there is something which is wildly out of place…

"This is a nutmeg grater," he puzzles aloud holding it up.

"Leaving aside exactly how you know that," Rusty says at his shoulder, toga and whip abandoned. "I would suggest that that is not a nutmeg grater at all and I'd advise you to drop it now."

With sudden distaste, Danny does.

* * *

Outside in the corridor, the other successful bidders and the prizes they have secured are being escorted to other rooms. Bryn appears and Bernard rushes forward, immediately regretful.

"I am sorry, monsieur. Only those successful in the auction can pass this point."

Bryn smiles. "About that."

* * *

"Gentlemen?" Bernard is stood in the open doorway. "Please would you join me outside for a moment?"

Danny and Rusty do so and the sight of Bryn leaned up against the wall stops them dead.

Bernard smiles at Danny. "I'm sorry but this gentleman has secured the winning bid."

"What?" Danny is incredulous. "He didn't even bid!"

Bernard sighs. "I will check but it is a formality. Your membership card, monsieur?" and when Danny produces it, Bernard nods at Bryn.

"It is as you say, monsieur, and I apologise for the oversight on my part. I should have remembered the rule. You must forgive me. I have been busy preparing the rooms."

"Of course, Bernard," Bryn is soothing. "Of course." He glances over at the incomprehension on Danny and Rusty's faces. "You were signed in as my guest, Danny. You have no membership of your own. You bid on my membership number and therefore on my behalf."

"My sincere apologies." Bernard looks at Danny. "If you'd like to rejoin the party, sir. I'm afraid guests are indeed unable to claim winning bids."

"No…no…I'm not going anywhere and neither is he." Danny is using his body to shield Rusty and Rusty's eyes are busy scanning for exits while security has magically appeared. In force.

"There's nothing," Bryn assures Rusty. "You won't be the first to get cold feet."

Danny can taste the set-up and it sits bitterly in his mouth. He feels Rusty tense behind him and his face turns ugly. This isn't happening without a fight.

"Security…" Bernard says regretfully and the men in suits step forward.

The fight is over before it has begun. There are just too many and there is nowhere to run. They are separated, dragged apart and dragged down under the weight of men who are paid to impose their will. And through it all, they can feel Bryn's sardonic gaze upon them.

"Rus!"

Danny is trying to swing punches but his arms are pinioned back and he is forced down to his knees in time to see four enforcers fasten themselves to Rusty, lift him off the floor and carry him bodily back into the room, a string of inarticulate invective falling from Rusty's lips as they do so.

Rusty's gone. Rusty's gone. And Bryn crouches down in front of Danny as words tumble out of him. He doesn't know what he is saying but there is fury and _don't _and pleading and _no _and threats and _please _and begging and _Rusty…Rusty…Rusty…. _Eventually, he stops because Bryn is simply smiling at him.

"Got some anger management issues there, Danny-boy. You need to sort those out."

He pats Danny's cheek and straightens up, nodding at Bernard. The last thing Danny sees before they haul him howling away is Bryn go into the room after Rusty. And then insanity claims him.

* * *

A/N: if anyone is wondering about the jail and the camera footage, I should explain that it comes from "An Unhappy Coincidence".


	18. Unravelling

An Unholy Alliance by InSilva

Disclaimer: really, I ought to be taking better care of them whether I own them or not. (I don't).

A/N: I feel this chapter should be labelled "Warning: contains Bryn".

Chapter Eighteen: Unravelling

* * *

Hands are holding him fast. He is struggling and struggling and is busy telling each and every one of them exactly what they are and exactly what they can do to themselves but no one seems to be listening to him. _(And where's Danny?) _He is staring up at the mirrored ceiling above the bed and he is twisting and turning but he can't break their grip and where is Danny? Where is Danny?

"Would you like him stripping, monsieur?" The question is solicitous, full of deference, polite.

"No…no…" It is Bryn. Out of sight but in the room. "Plenty of time for that. Just be good enough to remove his watch and his phone. Then cuff him to the bed."

"These?"

"Yes, thank you. Don't want to damage the merchandise."

He is lowered on to the bed and a hand carefully takes his phone from his pocket and his watch is pulled from his wrist and replaced by the ludicrous fur cuffs that are then attached to the steel headboard. Once they are fastened, his captors release him and retreat and he sits up immediately and attacks the cuffs.

"Here."

Bryn tosses the keys over to him and he snatches them off the pillow and unlocks the handcuffs even as the heavy door is closing, even as the corridor outside is disappearing, even as safety is evaporating, even as the door is shutting with Danny on the other side. Free at last, he scrambles off the bed, past Bryn who's leaning casually up against the wall and hurtles towards the one exit. It is shut tight. And there is-

"No handle on this side," Bryn calls over as Rusty's fingers search frantically for purchase, for something, for anything… "It opens again in the morning."

Rusty rests his palms against the smooth metal of the door and bows his head, eyes screwed shut, head ringing with the evening and the set up and the separation. Then he turns and faces Bryn.

"Where's Danny?" he asks tightly.

Bryn grins at him.

"Where is he?"

He grits his teeth as Bryn saunters over and stands in front of him.

"That's gonna drive you crazy, isn't it?"

"Where's Danny?" Rusty demands again but Bryn just shakes his head.

The fury flashes white hot through Rusty and he launches himself at Bryn, taking Bryn by surprise and knocking him flat on his back. Rusty sits astride him and punches him violently in the face, once, twice, three times, hitting him as hard as he can, opening up a small cut under Bryn's left cheekbone.

Bryn doesn't fight back. Bryn doesn't even raise his hands to defend himself. Bryn lies there, wearing a broad smile and his eyes are alive with… It is the look in his eyes that stops Rusty, stops him dead. Because along with the ever-present sardonic amusement is something else…

"You know how turned on I am right now? You want to shift your weight back a little and find out?"

Horrified, Rusty stares at him and then clambers off Bryn and to his feet, trying to keep his face free from the disgust rushing through him. Bryn laughs and stands up and strolls over to the table, picking up a glass and pouring the chilled Veuve Clicquot.

"You sure you don't want to come and join me?" Bryn sips the champagne and indicates the table of food. "Hellfire chefs are world class."

"I hope you choke on it. Where's Danny?"

Bryn dabs his mouth with a napkin. "All in good time, Rusty."

He sets about his meal with relish and Rusty retreats to the door, sinking down it, watching Bryn eat and there is silence and anger and dread and anticipation and amusement between them.

Out of the corner of his eye, Rusty catches sight of a fold of black material on the floor by his left hand. With a sudden rush of realisation, his fingers fasten on it and bury it into his palm. Danny's bow tie. He clutches it. It's ridiculous. It's only a strip of silk but it's comfort like no other. It's like Danny's with him as always, somehow, like a physical reminder that Danny's going to be with him, throughout, like the certainty that Danny will be there for him afterwards, whatever. Danny…where _is _Danny?

Meal over, Bryn pushes his chair back and studies Rusty.

"You missed out."

"I'll live."

"You _are_ missing out."

"I'll live. Where's Danny?"

Bryn smiles and gets lazily to his feet and Rusty pockets the bow tie, tenses his back against the door behind him, hands flat against the cold hard metal, ready to spring up, ready to fight, ready to hit and hopefully hurt. But Bryn doesn't come for him. Instead, he stays by the chair and starts to strip off his clothes. Rusty feels the adrenaline rising up within him and his hands tighten into fists.

"Oh, that look on your face is just too much, you know that?" Bryn is naked. Rusty can hear amusement and satisfaction and, God help him, arousal in his voice.

"You can see what you do to me," Bryn murmurs and Rusty focuses on Bryn's face. "No? You've seen it before."

Yes, he has. A night that seems a lifetime ago. And he never, ever wants to see it again.

"Oh, come on, Rusty. A hard man is good to find, remember."

"Where's Danny?"

Bryn chuckles and doesn't answer. He heads over to the couch, taking up residence on the velvet.

"I was going to freshen up but I think now I need a reason."

He makes himself comfortable and lies, eyes half-closed, watching Rusty.

Rusty tries to keep his eyes on Bryn's face because he needs to know where Bryn is, he needs to show no fear, but the sound of flesh slapping against flesh starts and it's too much and he can't look anywhere near the couch. He stares straight ahead at the table and wishes he could shut out the noise.

* * *

Bryn finishes with a grunt of satisfaction.

"Heading for the shower. You want to join me?"

"Fuck off." Spat. Angry. So, so angry.

"See you later, then."

Bryn disappears into the bathroom and Rusty rests his head in his hands and now that Bryn isn't in the same room, the edge of his anger dies and the shaking starts.

They have been played. Once again. The memory of the footage from the jail sparks through Rusty's mind and he can feel Danny's fingers digging in to him, the shock and the horror and the pain: all the things he himself is feeling too and all in sharp contrast to the sea of slaver surrounding them. And then the auction. Standing on the stage with every eye on him and feeling the wave of anticipation and desire washing up and over him. The only thing protecting him is Danny. Danny promising him it will be alright. And it _had_ been alright: the relief had flooded through him when Danny had won. The room – _this_ room. It had been a joke. Something to share and laugh about now and later. And now it is a nightmare.

A thought strikes him and he checks out the table. He lifts a knife and it disappears up his sleeve. It's a slim edge but it's an edge. Then his fingers find the bow tie and he tries to push away the dread; tries not to think ahead; tries not to be overwhelmed by anxiety over Danny.

* * *

Bryn returns and the bow tie disappears again into his pocket. He cannot afford to have Bryn find it and know what it is. He has no doubt Bryn would find ways to play with that knowledge.

"Oh, that's better. Feel so much cleaner." Bryn rubs his shoulder and stretches. "What I could do with now is a massage. Fancy volunteering?"

"I'll refer you to my earlier answer."

Bryn laughs and squats down in front of Rusty. Rusty's mouth tightens. The closeness of Bryn…the nakedness of Bryn…he is fighting for control, fighting not to show weakness… He goes on the attack.

"Where's Danny?"

"You worried about him?" Bryn bares his teeth. "Worried he might be shut up in one of these rooms with someone intent on showing him a good time?"

"Is he?" Rusty whispers and the horror rises up inside him. Danny trapped; Danny…

"How'd you like the little reminder of our last time up close and personal? Did it take you right back?"

Rusty is silent. He doesn't need the film to remember every single detail about that encounter with Bryn.

"You know I nearly went through with it at the time…" Bryn says.

He knows. He knows. He can still see the sprinklers raining down from the ceiling and through the curtain of water, the moment of indecision on Bryn's face clearly as he weighs up pros and cons…

"Nearly," Bryn goes on. "And then, I planned to come calling at night time and finish off what I'd started. Didn't get that chance. But if I had gone through with it…"

Rusty bites his lip as Bryn drifts away from the moment.

"I'd have had you on your knees in front of me…I'd have…mmm…then I'd have had you…you ever think about that? You ever think about my hands on you? My body on top of yours, pinning you down? You ever think about me moving inside you?"

He kneels up and leans forward, his weight on his hands. His face is close to Rusty's.

"You know I'd have had you suck your blood and shit off afterwards. And if we'd had time, you and I could have found some wonderful games to play."

There is blood in Rusty's mouth and his control is wafer-thin and he is ready to produce the knife and to use it.

"You got anything you want to say to me?"

"What's happening to Danny?" The anger has gone from Rusty's voice. It is leaden and it is flavoured with the edge of raw anxiety. "Where is he?"

Bryn exhales and his warmth breath hits Rusty's cheek. He almost stifles the flinch.

"I really don't think you should be concerned about Danny. So many other things to worry about."

He gets to his feet and walks over to the selection of movies, choosing one and inserting it into the VCR.

"We've got all night, Rusty," he reminds him as he drops down on to the bed. "Why don't you come and join me? We can take in a little culture together."

Rusty draws himself into himself and wraps the bow tie around his fingers as he watches Bryn, sprawled out on the bed. The movie starts and although Rusty cannot see – has no wish to see – he cannot help but hear. And what he hears makes his throat constrict.

Then a deep-throated noise of approval comes from Bryn and a little hiss of revulsion escapes from Rusty. Bryn's eyes close and a look of ecstasy creeps over his face.

"Huh. If you were doing that to me now…fuck. Mmm."

He degenerates into random noises of pleasure and his right hand is busy again and Rusty buries his mouth in his hand to hold on to the scream.

* * *

The movie finishes and Bryn lets out a noisy yawn.

"Think I might sleep for a bit. It's a big bed if you want to do the same."

"Go fuck yourself."

"Now that didn't sound like you meant it, Rus. That sounded positively weary. Wearing you down, is it?"

He doesn't wait for the answer Rusty is never going to give. Instead he settles himself on the bed and hits the lights.

The room immediately darkens but there is an eerie light still and Rusty realises that the mural of obscene gilded figures has been created with luminous paint. He swallows. Even when gentle snoring comes from Bryn - and even the snoring sounds self-satisfied – he can't relax. The walls of the room close in on him. The room with no exit. No exit and Bryn. And somewhere there is Danny. Being hurt? Being…

Rusty forces the sob of angry despair back but still a trace of it escapes and he hates the fact that it has. His fingers knot into silk that's losing its meaning. It's not Danny. The mostly darkness curls round him and he feels it pressing against him like a tangible force. He wants out of there. He wants to be anywhere but there. He wants Danny.

* * *

He has no idea of time. Sense of time disappeared long ago. It has been hours and hours stretch in front of him, unknown, unspecified and terrifying. The bow tie has become just a bow tie, pushed into his pocket and forgotten. His breathing is shallow and shaky and another time, he would have hated the sound of it but right now, he isn't even aware he is hearing it.

The mostly darkness contains shapes. Shapes that shift and they shouldn't. Shapes that he knows are impossible and he doesn't even realise that Bryn's snoring stopped a while back.

Rusty is being tracked. Like prey. And the hunter is careful. He sees and hears everything.

* * *

His nerves are stretched taut and fight and flight instincts are close to the surface. It won't take much to trigger them.

"Rus."

His name is spoken aloud in front of him and he lets out a small gasp as he swings with the knife. The knife meets empty air.

"Rusty…" The voice is chiding and coming from the opposite side and he twists away from it, holding the knife in front of him.

There is a tutting sound and then the lights go up a little and Bryn is standing beside him, his hand on the dimmer.

"That's better. I want to see your face."

Bryn hunkers down opposite him again and looks disdainfully at the knife.

"Please. I'd have that off you in seconds."

He studies Rusty and seems to like what he sees.

"Where's Danny?" Rusty whispers.

"Same old refrain. Time for a little quid pro quo."

"Thought it was champagne, not Chianti," Rusty manages but the bravado is painfully obvious.

"Oh, I'm not going to be the one with human flesh in my mouth, Clarice," Bryn grins. "No, if you want to know about Danny, I was thinking of a little give and take."

Rusty stares at him and then squeezes away the fear and disgust and all the feelings that rise up in him when he thinks of Bryn's touch. On his face is resignation and he lays himself open. _For Danny. For Danny._

Bryn blinks and there is an unsteady look in his eyes and he swallows and licks his lips.

"Oh, fuck," he shakes his head. "Fuck. I swear if I could bottle that look on your face right now…fuck. Oh, _fuck_!"

Bryn closes his eyes and there seems to be some sort of inner battle. And then he opens his eyes and there is a gleam that is more about the play than the predatory.

"Right now, I'd say you'd do whatever I wanted you to do. Right now, I figure you'd kiss me like you mean it. Or drop to your knees for me. Or strip. Or jerk off in front of me. Right now, I reckon I could ask for any of those. Or even all four."

The trembling rises up in Rusty and this time it's uncontrollable and the knife tumbles out of his hand to the floor. He wouldn't…he wouldn't…_Danny…_for Danny, he would.

"Information exchange," Bryn smiles and Rusty blinks.

"What do you want to know?" Rusty asks hoarsely.

There is a moment of silence and a million possibilities run through Rusty's head.

Then Bryn says, "Tell me what Danny tastes of."

"What?" Rusty stares at him.

"When you kiss," Bryn clarifies with a leer. "Tell me what he tastes of."

"No…" It's whispered shock.

"You want to know where Danny is, you tell me. And I will know if you're lying."

Rusty holds his gaze and looks deep into the darkness of Bryn's eyes. He can't trust him. He can never trust him. He can never, ever trust him. He can't do this. He can't share this. But he can't not do this. He can't not share this. _Danny._

"He…he…" _Oh, fuck._ "…he tastes of happiness…he tastes of freedom…he-he…"

This is…oh, fuck, this is agony…This is agony and Bryn knows it. He won't cry. He won't cry in front of him. Not ever. Not even if…not even. No, he won't cry but he can't keep the emotion out of his voice and he can't hide the shake. Bryn is watching him keenly.

"He tastes like a royal flush. He tastes like twenty-one. He tastes like taking the house. He-he-"

The tightness is seizing his throat.

"He tastes like perfection and the extraordinary and the incredible." He makes himself finish and forces the words out in a rush and a gasp. "He tastes like the best you'll ever find and the best you'll ever know."

His hands are balled into fists and he is hanging on to his self-control so tightly it is untrue. Bryn's face is looming in front of him, half in shadows, Mephistophelean.

"I believe you," Bryn says with soft satisfaction and Rusty blinks back on the emotion, gritting his teeth.

"Where's Danny?" There's pain beyond anything in his voice and he can't disguise it.

Bryn says nothing and Rusty gives a long and silent scream. He can't…he _can't_…

And then finally, finally, Bryn starts talking.

"Danny's down in the cells. They have cells here. For members who become a little overexcited. He's not being harmed. He's just got somewhere he can calm down and relax."

Bryn smiles at Rusty. "How do you think that's working out for him?"

* * *

Noise and confusion and rage and impotence and agony and fury and hatred and pain and disgust and anger and incoherence and anguish and screaming, screaming, screaming, screaming, screaming, screaming, inside and out loud because he should have been smarter and he can't protect and he can't do anything and right now, Bryn is…Rusty is…Bryn is…Rusty is…the room, the room and what's in it and Bryn is…Rusty is…Bryn is…Rusty is…

He is smacking up against metal bars and brick walls and there is nothing he can do because all there is running through him is noise and confusion and rage and…

* * *

Bryn has taken up residence against the wall to his right, a few inches away. He is leaning his head back again the wall and he is talking. Of course, he is talking. His words are sinuous and odious and designed to rip or to smear and to embed themselves in Rusty's head, in Rusty's soul.

"You know what I like about that scene in the boiler room? That look on your face when you walked through the door. All ready to take yourself away. To hide yourself somewhere. You think that will work? You think you can find a place far enough away from me?"

It will work. He can find a place. And then he thinks about what he has just thought and he clamps his jaw tight shut. As the stream of the hateful and the vicious falls from Bryn's lips, part of Rusty is focused elsewhere…_Danny…_

Somewhere there's Danny. If Bryn is to be believed, somewhere there is Danny and Danny is safe, Danny is not being harmed but Rusty knows Bryn knows what he's doing. He's pushing both of them like no one else can, like no one else could. And Rusty doesn't want to think about what Danny is going through. Doesn't want to think about the frantic and the wild. He remembers Danny's eyes when they met up again at the jail. Feverish and desperate and maddened. And he'd been quick to reassure. To let Danny know nothing had happ-

"Rusty…" His name is softly spoken and slightly sing-song and it brings him back to the moment.

"You looked like you were slipping away from me there…like you were forgetting…"

His nails dig into his palms. There is no chance he will ever forget Bryn.

"That's better," Bryn approves. "You don't get to go anywhere."

* * *

He has stopped yelling. Out loud at least. No one is taking the slightest bit of notice. Inside is another matter. Inside, he is still screaming. Inside, he can see a room with no escape. And he can't stop thinking about what Rusty is going through. Can't stop thinking about the physical and the mental pain that Bryn is capable of inflicting. He remembers Rusty's eyes when they met up again at the jail. On edge and haunted and vulnerable. And Rusty had been quick to reassure. To let him know that nothing had happened. And even so, Danny could read the raw and the defenceless. And something had happened. Despite what Rusty said. And something _is _happening…right now…_right_ now…right _now_…

* * *

Bryn is sitting in front of him again and Rusty is trying to look anywhere but at him. He feels Bryn's eyes raking over his face, reading everything that he can't hide, every noise he isn't making, every part of him that is on show in spite of himself.

"You know what I think Danny tastes like?"

Rusty's eyes snap round to him.

"That's right." Bryn is smiling. "That day you left us alone."

This is a truth to break him. And if he hadn't known firsthand from Danny, it would have done. As it is, it still pierces him. As is it, he does not have to feign the horror on his face.

"Danny was ready to do most anything for you," Bryn elaborates. "And when my mouth was on his-"

"Shut up." He can see it.

"When his mouth was open and-"

"Shut the fuck up!" The image is unbearable.

There is silence and a grin and Bryn's eyes are dancing and then he starts again.

"When my tongue was in his mouth, I'll tell you what he tasted of to me. Humiliated. Defeated. Insignificant."

"No." Immediate and definite because none of those words describe Danny.

"Yes. Yes, Rus, yes. Insignificant being the key. Because he is. You are."

Danny isn't. They aren't.

Bryn gets to his feet and steps back to his pile of clothes.

"Had him on his knees in front of me, you know, ready and willing. Could have taken him then and there…"

He stands with his back to Rusty and the knife lies between them glinting on the floor. Oh, he is tempted. He can feel the knife in his hand, can see it burying itself in Bryn and in other circumstances…but not these. Never these.

His brain is slow to process what Bryn is doing. But eventually, incredulously, he watches Bryn getting dressed.

"You know, I think it might be fun to have you undress me," Bryn suggests, his fingers expertly fastening his bow tie. "I can see your face when you do it."

His foot nudges the knife on the floor and he looks down at Rusty.

_Pitiful._

Rusty scrabbles to his feet and stands with his back to the door. Why hasn't Bryn…? What is he waiting for? When is he…? He can't bear the cat and mouse any longer; he cannot bear it. He screws up his eyes and when he opens them again, Bryn is in front of him. In his personal space. His face is inches away from Rusty. He plants a hand against the door either side of Rusty and Rusty cannot move. Just like in the cab, he cannot move. Bryn leans further in and Rusty twists his head to one side. He can feel Bryn's breath against his cheek. It is killing him. He studies the material in Bryn's sleeve. The cloth, the weave, the finish, the stitching, the shade…anything, anything but…

"I like the way you looked tonight, Rusty. Reminds me of that hotel room long ago. And the boiler room. Like your whole soul's on display. No one gets to see that, do they? No one gets to see beneath. Well, Danny-boy, maybe. And now, me."

There is a noise behind Rusty that he does not recognise and then Bryn is standing back and the door moves and he steps out of its way and as it opens, he stares at Bryn with utter disbelief. Bryn shoots him a smile and then steps out into the corridor, leaving Rusty standing dumbstruck in the room.

_Why?_

He can hear Bryn thanking Bernard for the facilities offered. Praising the food. The amenities.

_Why?_

The Hellfire's reputation is unsurpassed. He must come again. He mustn't leave it so long.

_Why?_

If Bernard could just be so kind as to show him to his other guest…

_Danny…_

"Fuck. Oh, fuck."

_Danny._

He has to move. He has to get to Danny.

* * *

It is morning. He is vaguely aware of the fact. The night has been full of madness and imagining. _Bryn living out the damn mural…Rusty handcuffed and helpless…the bath…the whip…the sex aids…the costumes…humiliation and pain and violation... _Now, he is sat perfectly still. Sometime soon he is going to see Bryn and Rusty again. He is going to see triumph and desolation on their faces. He cannot bear to picture either for long because the feelings of vengeful fury and guilty failure overwhelm him. Numbness cocoons him.

The door swings open.

"Monsieur?"

Bernard steps into the little cell followed by Bryn. Whatever Bernard is saying, the words fade away. There is only Bryn, smug and arrogant and silent, slouched up against the wall by the door, the cut on his face that is testimony to the fight Rusty has put up. Danny stares at him unblinking for a moment and then instinct takes over. Hands ball into fists. Legs launch him forward. An arm is pulled back to deliver a blow that will eloquently express what he cannot say.

Things happen in slow motion. One second there is the red mist and Bryn and he can _see_ the punch landing, can _see_ Bryn's head rocking back on his shoulders. And then Rusty is there. In between them. Trying to say something, trying to tell him something. But it's too late to stop his fist. It buries itself in Rusty's jaw and Rusty's eyes widen with shock and pain just as his own do. It sends Rusty skittering backwards and Bryn steps neatly out of the way so that Rusty is deposited in an inelegant heap on the floor. He hears himself let out a cry and he hears Bryn's laughter and almost, almost he turns to finish what he's started but Rusty needs him, Rusty needs him and that is always going to come first. He drops to his knees and he gathers Rusty into his arms and the white noise in his head slowly fades.

"Rus, Rus…"

He holds him tightly, wrapping his arms around him and he starts to whisper apologies but Rusty's hands are on his shoulders, pushing him back so that he can look in Rusty's eyes.

"He didn't touch me, Danny."

He hears the words and he wants to laugh. It's a ridiculous lie. It's not even worth Rusty bothering to try to sell it.

"He didn't touch me."

Rusty locked up for the night with Bryn. How could Bryn not? How could he not…?

"He didn't lay a finger on me."

But Rusty's eyes are telling him it's the truth and the confusion hurts because it can't be true, there is no way it can be true and he suddenly feels cut adrift as if nothing will ever make sense again.

"He did not touch me."

And the words are clear and precise and Rusty really isn't worried about anything other than making sure he hears the words and hears the…truth? Bewildered, he looks up at Bryn who is standing with a sneer on his face.

_Why?_

He can't form coherent words.

_Why?_

He has spent the night in hell and words will not come.

_Why?_

Bryn crouches down near them.

"Look at you. Look at the pair of you. Been a long night, has it, Danny-boy? Imagination running riot while Rusty and I had some quality time together?"

Bryn's gaze flicks to Rusty, white-faced and with a dark mark blooming near his mouth.

"So that we are absolutely clear, Rus, I do not need a little room with porn and toys to enjoy you. I can take you any place. Any time. And when I do, we both know what I'll be seeing when I look into your eyes."

He looks back at Danny.

"And so that _we_ are absolutely clear, I can do control for longer than you, Danny." He gets to his feet. "Be back at the hotel for twelve. I'm going to contact Jamieson."

Bryn turns on his heel and leaves them.

Silence hangs between them. Danny looks at eyes full of pain and exhaustion and knows that Rusty is reading similar in him. Then Bernard clears his throat and now is not the time, now is not the place. He gets to his feet and pulls Rusty up and they follow Bernard out of the room, shoulder to shoulder, and he walks as closely to Rusty as he can and feels Rusty lean in to him slightly because right now they need to be talking and holding and comforting and they can't, they can't…

"Your watch and phone, monsieur," Bernard hands them over to Rusty. "And Monsieur Gower thought you might like this, monsieur."

He hands Danny a video tape_. The _video tape. Danny stares at it.

"Monsieur Gower says that he has another copy. He wanted you to have this as a souvenir."

Danny's fingers tighten on the black plastic and he shuts his eyes and then feels Rusty's hand on his arm and he opens them again and nods.

They leave the Hellfire Club and step into early morning sunshine. Two doors down the street is a little hotel. Without needing to consult each other, they step through the doors and walk to reception.

"Room," Danny says and produces a card.

"Whisky," Rusty adds, producing cash.

The bottle and the key arrive and they cannot make it to the room fast enough.

* * *

A/N: So. Eighteen chapters in and I would really like to know what you're making of it all.

Next chapter is going to be an M rating. Rather than rerate the entire fic, I will publish it as a standalone: "An Unholy Alliance Chapter Nineteen". If you don't have the fic on story alert, you should be able to pick it up when I post it by changing the ratings filter. And to answer the next question, soon.


	19. Exposed

An Unholy Alliance by InSilva

Disclaimer: I own nothing of an Ocean's nature.

Chapter Twenty: Exposed

* * *

Danny comes back from the bathroom to find Rusty staring out of the window at the boulevard below, his weight on his right arm up against the wall, his left hand on his hip, lost in thought.

"Hey."

Rusty turns round and flashes him a quick smile and Danny can see the exhaustion and the need to know that this is going to be over soon. Hell, he feels the same way.

There is tightness in Rusty's face.

"You know what I hate?" he asks and without waiting for an answer, continues, "I'm not weak, Danny. I'm not helpless."

He isn't. He isn't in the slightest. Rusty is one of the toughest men he knows. Likely to take physical pain as some kind of personal challenge. Stubborn in the extreme. And not above being stupid in the extreme also.

Danny can remember blinking up through hazy pain to hear Mulligan asking if Rusty had a good enough view, to see Mulligan patting Rusty's cheek as Rusty sat bound and tightlipped and white-lipped. And at the time, in spite of the ache and the agony, the rational part of him had thought that was an unwise move from Mulligan. The same rational part predicted the dangerous gleam in Rusty's eyes and even as his lips were trying to tell Rusty not to do it, even as his eyes were begging Rusty not to be ridiculous, he knew it was all too late. It had been too late when Mulligan had placed his hand on Rusty's face.

Rusty had sunk his teeth into the fleshy part of Mulligan's palm and there had been fierce yelling and then the physical pain had left Danny for a while and the mental anguish had started.

No. Rusty wasn't weak. Rusty wasn't helpless. It is, as ever, all about Bryn and his mindgames. All about Bryn burrowing underneath the surface and digging and twisting and pressuring...

_He makes me feel…fuck…_

Danny reaches out and squeezes Rusty's arm in silent support.

"Here," Rusty says wearily and fishes the bow tie out of his pocket and hands it to Danny. "It helped. For a while."

Danny's fingers tighten on the black silk and he thinks again of the long night.

"We're gonna keep him waiting," Danny says and Rusty nods.

Jamieson is unlikely to want a meet before evening falls and they are not going to dance to Bryn's tune. Neither of them need to tell the other that they need a little more recovery time, a little more planning time before they can handle seeing Bryn again.

* * *

It is five o'clock before they return to the hotel, evening dress replaced by new suits. Danny catches Rusty's arm as they are about to walk through the doors and pulls him back.

_Rus…_

Rusty sees the anxiety in Danny's eyes and he sighs because he knows the why and he can do nothing to assuage it and he knows that if Danny could, he would put him on a plane and make sure he was miles away from Bryn.

"Remember what we said when we first got into this," he reminds Danny.

"We said we could do it," Danny says heavily.

"That's right. And this means we have to do this."

Danny pulls a face. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

* * *

They sit in the hotel bar and call Bryn's room. Something that could be described as thinly veiled apoplexy greets them.

"Where the fuck have you been?" comes the snarl.

"We overslept," Danny volunteers, his voice mild and even. "We're down in the bar."

The phone line goes dead and Danny shrugs at Rusty.

"Sounds like he missed us."

* * *

Bryn strides purposefully through the bar towards them, unsmiling and eyes flashing with anger. He swings himself down at the table next to Danny.

"Do you think this is a game?" he asks fiercely.

"We thought-"

"Do you think this is a game?" Bryn repeats, cutting Danny off and spitting each word at them. "Well?"

They look at each other and then Danny shakes his head and Rusty mutters, "No".

"I'm sorry, Rusty, would you care to say that again?"

"No," he obliges, raising his voice.

"No," Bryn agrees. "It is not a game. And in case you have forgotten, your friend, Saul Bloom's life is at stake. Without me, your friend is going to end up gutted open by people searching for those diamonds. Have you forgotten that?"

His eyes are on Rusty's and they are not letting go of him. The vision of Saul on a mortuary slab swims momentarily in front of Rusty and he sets his mouth firmly.

"No," Rusty says eventually and Bryn stares at him for a long, hard moment and then sits back in his chair, apparently satisfied.

_Good._

"It's lucky that I've set the meeting up with Jamieson for nine. You two are a pair of rank amateurs."

And Bryn's anger dies away to be replaced by his customary contemptuous amusement.

"So, boys, compared notes on last night? Decide which of you enjoyed it more?"

Rusty sees Danny's mouth tighten. Bryn's gaze flickers over to him.

"You alright, Danny-boy? Did he tell you everything?"

Danny's eyes are cold.

"He told me."

"Mmm," Bryn bares his teeth. "He told me too."

He drops his stare down to Danny's lips.

"Happiness and freedom," he murmurs and Rusty digs his nails into his palms. "Did you know you're the best he has ever known?"

Rusty lets out a slow breath through his teeth.

"What about it, Danny? Is it reciprocal? Does he taste like the best hand of poker you could hope for? The…what was it again?" he breaks off and pretends to think. "The extraordinary. The incredible. Like perfection."

Bryn's eyes are all over Danny searching for reaction. Danny's face is stone.

"Oh, that's good control," Bryn praises. "A pity you didn't show that earlier in the day."

He waves a lazy hand at the bruise near Rusty's mouth.

"You know I think you enjoy this more than you let on. Is it the same for you as it is for me? The adrenaline rush? The sheer pleasure of inflicting the pain? Seeing that look of fear in his eyes? You love it, don't you? Isn't it just the greatest prelude to the most astonishing sex?"

Rusty can bear it no longer. Danny's face is tight and unblinking but inside he is screaming to deny the comparison to Bryn. Rusty knows because he is screaming to deny it too. His fingers find his phone in his pocket and he dials Danny's number.

"Does it make you feel more of a man?"

Fuck, Bryn will _not_ shut up.

"Doesn't it make you want to hurt him just to hear those breathy little whimpers and moans? Aren't they arousing?"

Rusty can see the rigidity in Danny's frame. He is only holding himself together by extreme force of will. Any more and- Danny's phone rings and he answers it, clamping the phone to his ear.

"Yes. Yes. Just a minute."

He glances at Bryn and then over at Rusty.

"I have to take this," he says apologetically.

_Take it._

"Don't mind us," Bryn smiles. "We will be waiting for you when you come back."

Danny looks at Rusty again and then around the room which is populated. He sighs and stands up and walks some distance away, turning his back on them and talking in to a telephone where no one is answering. Rusty knows he will need a little time to regain his equilibrium.

Bryn stares across the table at him.

"Were you worried about facing me, Rusty? Scared to remember what happened? What didn't happen? What might have happened?"

He says nothing but some of the truth leaks across his face and Bryn laughs softly.

"You have no idea how hard it was for me. You really don't. To be shut up all night with you and not to take advantage. I was really proud of myself."

"That must be a first."

"Still jumping at shadows, Rusty? Still shaking inside?"

He bites his lip because that's only a little way away from the surface.

"And Danny. I knew Danny would just fall to pieces. Completely. Beautifully. An absolute mess." Bryn leans across the table. "He would have hit me. You do know that."

He does. Of course, he does. That's why he got in the way of the punch. Why he tried to explain what Bryn hadn't done.

Bryn gets to his feet and sidles round the table till he is stood behind Rusty. He leans down towards him, his left hand resting on the table beside Rusty. Rusty feels his presence there and it is as insufferable as it was in the red-walled room. The self-confidence and the threat and the-

He can't help it. He lets out a gasp. Because Bryn's fingers are making steady progress across his shoulder blades. Just like they did in the boiler room. Travelling excruciatingly slowly. He can't move. If he moves, he'll come into closer contact with Bryn and that would be more than he could bear. He wants to cry out but he locks down the urge and he suffers the touch. It is all things agony. He stares at Danny, still with his back to them.

The fingers stop and Bryn's mouth hovers close to Rusty's right ear.

"Just know that I have been waiting to do that for a week."

His teeth close around Rusty's earlobe and he applies gentle pressure so that if Rusty pulls away, he risks injury. Bryn's tongue caresses the edge of the ear and Rusty cannot help the shudder. He can't make a scene. If he makes a scene, Danny will see and that is not going to end well.

Bryn releases him and then sits down again opposite. With difficulty, Rusty forces the nausea down and glares at him.

"You just broke the-"

"Oh, Danny-boy got there first. I'm claiming a moral victory on that score."

Rusty knows he shouldn't but he has to. His right hand shoots up to wipe his ear.

"You taste good, Rusty." Bryn's tongue is running over his upper lip. "What can I say? Good things come to those who wait."

Rusty sees Danny coming back over and he pushes the revulsion away and keeps his face neutral. Danny has recovered his self-composure and sits down, looking between Bryn and him.

_You OK, Rus?_

_I'm fine. Absolutely fine._

And he knows Bryn has read every word.

* * *

The meeting is set for a restaurant nearer to Jamieson's chateau and as they travel there, Rusty tries to ignore the handful of sly little touches that Bryn makes when Danny's attention is elsewhere.

They sit in a bar across the street and Bryn deigns to share information.

"Alright. Here's the deal. Jamieson pitches up at nine. You go in and have a meal with him and you get him to take you back home. It should not be difficult. And don't worry about your face." He gestures at the vivid bruise. "It just shows you're not easy."

"I want a drink," Rusty says and Bryn nods.

"There's time for that." He glances at Danny who has been silent and who looks like he is hating every second of it. "Why don't you run over to the bar and get them in, Danny-boy? I'm really a Martini kind of guy." His gaze flicks back to Rusty. "Any time, any place, anywhere." He laughs at his own words. "But make mine a whisky."

Before Danny can object, Rusty gives him his drinks order.

"Pina colada."

_You sure? _

_Yeah._

_The residue…_

"Pina colada," Rusty insists and with a shake of his head, Danny disappears.

There is a large grin on Bryn's face.

"Oh, you are just such a_ tease_…"

* * *

Danny comes back with the drinks, including malt for himself and Bryn watches the rum and coconut and pineapple and cream disappear opposite, sipping his whisky as he does so. Rusty wipes his fingers over his mouth to take away the last traces of the cocktail and it coincides with Bryn draining his own glass.

"Now, _that_ definitely constitutes foreplay."

He glances at his watch.

"OK, go do your thing. And look…" he hesitates for a second and then says, "I wasn't kidding when I said your ass was safe from Jamieson. All he'll want is a nightcap and a kiss and a cuddle. Man has been impotent for years." Bryn grins at Rusty. "Not a problem I have, is it, Rus?"

"Wait a minute," Danny is staring at him. "So if Jamieson had won that auction…"

"The two of them would have had a lovely dinner and a tête à tête. Nothing more."

Danny's face drains.

"By the way, Danny. Did I thank you for buying me a night with Rusty? It was simply amazing. You are too generous."

Danny's eyes squeeze shut in pain and then he opens them again and looks at Rusty. The message he is getting back tells him to stay strong and focused and not to lose it when they've come so far. He blinks agreement and leaves the bait well alone.

"I'm going," Rusty says. "If I find Saul's in the house, I'll phone you. Be ready."

"Danny and I were born ready, weren't we?"

"Be careful," Danny tells Rusty and he is earnest.

* * *

Bryn and he watch the meeting take place and the meal is ordered and eaten and things are progressing further and then Rusty and Jamieson are coming out of the restaurant together with two bodyguards and climbing in to a car and disappearing.

"We need to go," Danny tells Bryn.

* * *

They wait beside the church and Bryn looks speculatively at Danny, tight-lipped and apprehensive.

"Don't worry. It's true what I said about Jamieson. He's quite harmless. Just likes to cop a feel."

Danny's mouth twists because that is hardly reassuring. It is still treating Rusty like meat. Like some plaything to be fondled. And the thought of Rusty letting that happen is… He bites his lip and thinks back to earlier.

"_We're gonna keep him waiting," he says._

_Rusty looks at him and he sees unnecessary gratitude and relief for the respite and then there is a mist of apprehension._

"_What?" he asks softly._

_Rusty hesitates and then says, "Jamieson" and Danny can see he has moved all the way forward to the meeting that is going to lead them to Saul. The meeting that is going to be like the meeting all those nights ago when Rusty's role was to hook in Bryn._

_He reaches out for Rusty and pulls him to him and without asking or thinking, he kisses him. Just as he kissed him that night all those nights ago. With gentleness and passion and tenderness. But there is a difference. Because whereas before Rusty needed the knowledge, now he needs the imprint. He knows enough about Rusty now to know that this will help._

_Rusty is carefully not responding and there is some tiny part of Danny that wonders what he would do if Rusty did. When Danny pulls away, Rusty just looks at him and then smiles and nods. _

_You call me this time._

_I'll try to remember._

The fact that Rusty has prepared himself for this doesn't mean Danny feels in any way prepared. But factors have outvoted him.

"-of course, not being able to get it up doesn't stop him enjoying himself."

Danny comes back to reality with a bump.

"What?"

Bryn grins at him.

"Jamieson lives vicariously off the pleasures of others."

"What?" Danny repeats and Bryn sighs as if he dislikes the fact that he has to explain.

"He is a voyeur. He likes to watch. There are kisses and cuddles and then he calls his boys in. To do what he can't. Sex by proxy."

Danny forgets how to breathe.

"We need to stop this," he manages eventually.

Bryn chuckles.

"I bet you want to stop it. You think I care? They'll just be warming him up for me. After all, it's hardly like it's going to be his first time, is it?"

Danny's face is raw with shock and pain and open as a book. Bryn cannot help but read it for what it is. He frowns.

"We're not lovers," Danny says blankly.

"Don't give me that, I've seen you." But there's doubt in there.

"We're not lovers," Danny says again and all that is on his face is the truth. "We're…" he tails off and what he feels is close to what he imagines Rusty felt the previous evening. The pain of the revelation. "We're partners. We're friends. We care for each other-"

"You love each other," Bryn corrects.

Instinctively, because it's Bryn, Danny opens his mouth to deny but he can't.

"We're not lovers," he whispers.

Bryn's eyes search his face looking for lies but come up empty.

"Fuck," he blinks. "We've got to stop this."

And Danny's teeth clench because Bryn's motivation is loud and clear.

* * *

The room is decorated floor to ceiling with a trompe l'oeil painting of the Greek gods at play. The lighting is low and atmospheric and there is jazz music playing softly in the background. Little objets d'art are scattered round the room which a professional eye could place in a continuum from mediocre to priceless.

Rusty is sitting on a deep leather couch, glass in hand, staring at a huge sheepskin rug on the floor in front of him and wondering what size the sheep was that it belonged to. Jamieson is next to him, one leg casually resting on the other, his arm along the back of the couch, fingers edging towards Rusty's shoulder.

It is probably not something he should be admitting but Rusty is bored. Jamieson likes the sound of his own voice. He has talked all the way through dinner about his upbringing in Connecticut, his travels that have brought him to Europe, his love for art… Rusty had nodded politely and used his eyes and his smile and the invitation back for a little drink had followed as night does day.

Whisky had been poured and the talk had continued, soft and murmuring and more and more flirty and yet there is really nothing to fear from Jamieson directly. Rusty can sense it. Bryn has been telling the truth. There is quiet desperation and watery little eyes, almost a servile air and absolutely no threat. The only slightly weird thing is that Jamieson's two bodyguards, Alain and Guillaume, are sitting at the back of the room. Rusty can't quite reconcile that. He has half-mentioned it, suggesting that they might like a little privacy but Jamieson has dismissed the suggestion that the pair withdraw. He supposes that Jamieson likes the security. It is still unexpected. He sits with half a mind on Jamieson and part of him turning over the conundrum of Alain and Guillaume's presence and most of him thinking about Danny and hoping that he is coping with time spent with Bryn.

Out of him and Danny, Rusty has no doubt which of them is in the more precarious position.


	20. Rescue Mission

An Unholy Alliance by InSilva

Disclaimer: Non, je ne regrette rien…non, je n'ai pas créé either of them either.

Chapter Twenty-One: Rescue Mission

* * *

Rusty stifles a yawn. Jamieson is still murmuring sweet nothings and nonsense and Rusty is smiling and keeping his body language open and inviting. Somewhere, he can see Danny's face, full of exasperation and anger. And some of it would be directed at Jamieson.

_Just before they head back to face Bryn, just before they walk back into the hotel, Rusty's "seduction" of Jamieson has been a fierce topic of debate._

"_You don't need to do this." Danny is insistent. "This is stupid."_

_Rusty crooks a smile._

"_I do. Think about it. How can I not?"_

_Danny does not look convinced._

"_There are other ways. There have to be other ways."_

"_This is the quickest, most direct route and you know it."_

_He knows he is right and more importantly Danny knows he is right and he keeps his gaze unblinking and even until Danny drops his eyes and sighs._

Back in the moment, Rusty decides to cut to the chase.

"Top up, Mr Jamieson?"

"Thanks."

He takes their glasses over to the little table with the whisky decanter and the soda siphon and does the necessary. He returns with the drinks and as he sits down, he suddenly hears Alain and Guillaume talking. They can speak perfect English. They have done so in front of Jamieson. But Jamieson can't speak French and Alain and Guillaume have assumed that Rusty is an ignorant American when it comes to languages too.

The conversation is soft and there is gentle laughter and it is mostly slang but even as he smiles at Jamieson, what he is hearing is…

"You have a preference?"

"Heads or tails?" Chuckle.

"You want to toss for it?"

Chuckles on both sides.

"That mouth…that ass…I'm not fussed."

"He's pretty."

"He is. Got a body on him too."

"Mmm."

"You think the" Rusty couldn't quite translate the word but it was obviously Jamieson and obviously derogatory, "will want what he did last time?"

"If that rug down there could talk."

"Head _and_ tail."

"At the same time."

Contemplative silence.

"Fuck me, I hope so."

Rusty's mouth goes dry and his senses hit high alert because suddenly this has moved into a whole other place.

* * *

Bryn has played them yet again. Danny is running out of fingers to count the transgressions. His hatred of Bryn is possibly at an all-time high. But with Bryn, anything is possible and he doesn't want to lay down markers.

He thought they had nullified the threat of Jamieson. Even though he had argued with Rusty not to go through with it, even when he had lost the argument, he still thought Rusty was safe. _But you thought he was safe ten years ago…_ He should have stood firm. He should have insisted. But Rusty has been persuasive and logical and he hopes there have been times when he has been just as stubborn but he can't recall them.

And in the end, what did it matter who was right and who was wrong? Because there is new and unexpected threat and there is Rusty facing it alone and unprepared and he is working to the same goal with a man he detests and despises. The end of the tunnel can not come quickly enough.

* * *

_He is old and he is scared and he has no idea where he is. The journey in the back of the truck with the other old man and the empty potato sacks has been a nightmare. He has kept his head down and done what the men who took him away from Poland have wanted – or at least what he thinks they want. It has not been easy to tell. _

_They have arrived and been herded downstairs to a room with mattresses and a bucket in the corner where another four old men are waiting. From Russia, he learns, and Germany. None of them seem to know who has brought them there. They are searched and sparse meals are provided and he has slept fitfully because he is so very, very frightened._

_The next day they are visited again and they are shouted at in a language he doesn't understand. And he wants to be anywhere but where he is._

_Later that day, the door opens and two men stand in the doorway and they are looking at one of the other men; they seem to be summoning him without saying a word and he winces as the other man disappears through the door. The two men hesitate and he holds his breath but they don't take anyone else away. And as the other man does not return, he can only be grateful for that._

* * *

The set up at the Hellfire Club has worked beautifully. He loved the aghast and the agony on their faces when they saw the camera footage from the jail. He loved leading the pair of them to the auction and the successful bid. He loved giving both of them the time to inspect the room and then ripping the safety away from them. He could imagine the anxiety slashing through Danny. And he has taken the edge off his own appetite before he left the hotel and he has dulled it further with brandy and champagne and _still_ he has had to relieve the pressure, the excitement Rusty rouses in him, not once but twice.

Rusty laid bare. Oh, it has been a heady sight. The tension rippling through Rusty. Watching him fight to keep the self-control. Seeing the battle to hide the vulnerability and the fear. The bravado and the anger that slowly die away.

Seeing Danny the next morning and he could smell the fury before the door opened, before he stepped into the room, before he looked into Danny's eyes and knew that he had won the battle for control.

He has been angry that they have gone AWOL. They should surely know better than to keep him waiting. Part of him though is highly delighted that they cannot face him; that they need the time away from him to recover and regroup.

Digging at Danny-boy has been fun. His jibes have struck deep and he has seen the tightness in Danny's face. Glorious. What has been even more glorious has been the one-to-one time with Rusty. Touching him. Even in public. Especially in public. His fingers have thrilled with the touch. And Rusty won't tell. Won't share that little bit of information. He's seen Danny ask and he's seen Rusty hide the truth with his answer. He can use that.

And waiting for Jamieson to show has also been fun. Sipping that strange brand of Parisian whisky while being thoroughly distracted by watching Rusty sip and swallow the cocktail. Mmm. That memory will keep him warm on cold nights.

As for now…now they are moving swiftly through the tunnel - Danny-boy wanting to save Rusty while he wants to save him for himself - and as they do so, his mind is still turning over Danny's revelation. It is a complete shock and yet he can tell it's true. What is wrong with the man? Has he never been tempted? It was purgatory spending one night alone with Rusty but to spend any and every night with Rusty in the same bed, lying next to him, naked or as good as, and _not_ fuck him? He cannot credit it.

* * *

Jamieson's phone rings.

"Sorry," he says with a yawn. "Forgot to turn it off."

He checks the number and answers it.

"Hi! Where are you?...Well, take your time. I've got a little company and the black ice your men brought me won't melt."

Hobbs. It has to be Hobbs, Rusty is sure. On his way to find Saul and the diamonds.

"See you later."

Jamieson hangs up and gives another deeper yawn. His fingers reach out and trace the injury Danny has inflicted. There is gentleness there – more than Bryn would offer – but not much.

"I'd like to kiss that better for you," he murmurs, shuffling closer and Rusty braces himself as Jamieson wetly nuzzles the bruise.

"Shall I tell you what I'd like you to do?" Jamieson asks, pulling away slightly.

"What?" Rusty smiles and grits his teeth at the sensation alone as Jamieson whispers in his ear. For a second he is back with Bryn.

His heart races as he hears Jamieson and he can feel the curiosity burning into the back of his head from Alain and Guillaume. They thought they had an answer for Jamieson. The fast-acting Mickey that didn't work on Bryn. And Jamieson is drinking his whisky and drinking the drug and suddenly Rusty isn't so certain he wants Jamieson asleep. Because he isn't convinced that the pair behind him are going to take that as a good enough reason not to act.

* * *

The journey from the tunnel into the cellar and out into the kitchen corridor beyond is accomplished with leanness of motion.

"He'll be in the room at the front of the house," Bryn supplies and Danny gives a terse nod.

They move through the corridors in silence, carefully stepping into doorways and avoiding the odd chateau inhabitant with ease. Neither of them needs to encourage the other to hurry.

Danny is half a step in front of Bryn and some part of Bryn wants to think about why that isn't quite right. His head is starting to throb with the adrenaline and he shakes it to clear it. He wants to concentrate. And he wants to smile. Because unlike Michael and the basketball court, he doubts either Danny or Rusty is going to be squeamish this time about the violence he is going to offer.

* * *

Jamieson is yawning heavily now. His fingers are playing with Rusty's hair and he is sitting as close as he can, his other hand brushing against Rusty's knee. Rusty is gritting his teeth at the touch and reminding himself that it isn't Bryn. His mind is chasing down possibilities. He remembers studying the chateau from the outside. The windows are shuttered and bolted. There is one exit from this room and Alain and Guillaume are between him and it. He can run and he can run fast but he isn't certain that he can dodge both of them.

And the difficulty is that he isn't in a position to make a scene. It's not part of the plan. Even when the plan was to find out information and report back. He needs to move smoothly from the room and…the phone. Damn it. He doesn't want to ask for help. He never wants to ask for help. But he and Danny have come too far to mess this up. He is tempted. His fingers could delve surreptitiously into his inside pocket as if he were scratching his chest and hit the redial button. Damn it. He hates - _hates _- the expression that he can picture on Danny's face…the phone. The phone. The time spent with Bryn has drained him so much. Left him susceptible. He can see his fingers edging towards his jacket…he can _feel_ them twitch… _Damn _it.

He sighs inwardly and rejects the idea, chastising himself for the weakness. It isn't what he is about. And he can already hear Danny swearing at him. But he is at least going to change the plan. And that makes him want to swear at himself.

"I'd like to use the bathroom," he smiles at Jamieson. "Before…"

"Oh, certainly!" Jamieson beams.

He can get out of the room. And out of the room opens up other possibilities.

"Alain? You want to show our guest where the facilities are?"

"Certainly, Mr Jamieson."

One of them. One of them with him and outside of this room and he will take his chances.

"Tu viens, Guillaume?" Alain asks softly and Rusty holds his breath and hopes for a contradiction from Jamieson that just doesn't come.

Jamieson is smiling up at him, befuddled and dreamy. He is going to be precisely no help.

Alain and Guillaume stand either side of him and they move professionally as if he were the President and they were assigned to protect him. They stand a couple of inches taller than him, athletically built, not reeking of power like Bryn but no pushovers. He guesses that they have written him off as effete and he has no problem with that. As ever, it will give him the advantage. As ever, it will give him the element of surprise. He will land some unexpected punches and he will do his best to escape. Hell, he might even make it.

The realist in him tries to weigh up his chances and he sighs. There is a reason Danny is the optimist.

* * *

Danny's insides are gnawing with impatience. They are waiting in a little room off a busy corridor, with a group of men sauntering past. He wants to run through them like they are skittles but Bryn's watching the door and he's pushed Danny away twice. Danny tries for a third time and Bryn turns on him.

"Sit tight, Danny-boy. There's something more at stake than keeping Rusty's virtue intact, you know. We wait till they're gone."

Bryn passes a hand over his forehead and frowns at Danny. And Danny's face forms an answering scowl

* * *

For an old chateau, it believes in modern plumbing. He sits in the cubicle and listens to the pair outside the door: they are still oblivious to the fact that he understands every word they are saying.

"Jamieson looks as though he is tiring."

"Yeah. Must be all the effort of sitting on his behind."

"Wish he'd hurry up and cut to the chase. I'm ready."

"Mmm. Me too."

Terrific. Rusty raises his eyes to the ceiling and wonders what gods he's offended to end up in this situation.

"Hey, you OK in there?" One of them – Alain, he thinks – bangs on the door.

"Yeah. Just finishing up."

He pulls the handle and flushes for effect and stands up. Time to try.

* * *

The last man has walked by and Bryn has allowed them to leave the room. Oh, they are not far away. Close to the front of the house and yet it may be busier. They need to be stealthier. And the only thought running through Danny is that they need to be in time.

* * *

Somewhere, he can hear Danny urging him to run and he is going to. He has not spent fuck knows how long dreading Bryn's advances only for Alain and Guillaume to blithely get there first. There will have to be another plan.

He knows the way to the front door. It is the shortest route out of there and once outside there are grounds to hide in and then, _then, _he will phone Danny. He waits till the three of them are nearly back at the room and then without warning, he throws a hard punch to Alain's gut and sprints past a surprised Guillaume. And he likes to think he would have made it. Except that Guillaume's reactions are swift and lucky and he grabs at Rusty as he flies past him. Guillaume's weight is in just the right direction and it is enough to bring Rusty to the ground.

They both fall on him, then and it is a haze of kicks and punches thrown and desperation and determination and again there is a chance at almost freedom but this time it is Alain who denies him.

And somehow, they are all back in the room with the rug and the couch where Jamieson is now snoring.

They let him go and he backs away, panting and wiping the blood away from his lips. Alain has blood pouring from his nose and Rusty sees it with grim satisfaction. Guillaume will be sporting a black eye in the morning and that pleases Rusty too. What is less pleasing is that this is not about the morning, this is about the now. And neither Alain nor Guillaume looks like they are going to be reasoned with.

"Our boss likes a show," Guillaume explains unnecessarily.

"Your boss is asleep," Rusty points out.

"We will tell him what he missed," Alain smiles.

Rusty throws glances either side of him but there are no handy ornamental daggers on display. Tiny jewelled snuff-boxes that remind him of Cincinnati but nothing sharp and threatening. He balances himself on the balls of his feet and keeps his limbs loose. He is going to make them make the effort.

And then impossibly, the door opens and Bryn and Danny are stood there. Danny's face is pale and his eyes are searching and Rusty cannot stop, even if he wanted to, the flicker of relief that is enough to tell Danny that all is well. Bryn's face is flushed and he is smiling. He looks at Rusty and is at his predatory best.

Alain and Guillaume spin round and their bodyguard training kicks in. Alain walks up to Bryn.

"Who the fuck are you and what are you-"

It's a single blow delivered to Alain's windpipe and it drives Alain to his knees, gasping for breath.

"You wait a minute-"

Guillaume comes within range and swinging hard, Bryn's fist connects with his face. Two more hard blows to the head and Guillaume is out cold. Alain struggles up and Bryn just grins at him as if this is one of the best pastimes ever.

As the first punch lands, Danny steps round them to get to Rusty.

"How did you know?" Rusty asks.

"I didn't. Bryn did." Danny's voice is tight. "He thought it might be fun."

"Oh…" Rusty's mind is busy on the reason Bryn might change his mind. Then his eyes widen. "_Oh…"_

"Exactly." Danny's hand gently rubs away the blood and then his fingers trace the bruise and Rusty can see the guilt in his eyes yet again.

_Quit it. We've got a job to do._

Bryn gets to his feet, Alain unconscious next to Guillaume.

"You alright, Rusty?" he asks.

"Never better."

"Want to thank me, either of you?"

"Doubt you acted out of the goodness of your heart," Rusty snaps.

"Didn't want anyone else to beat me to it." Bryn is breathing heavily and the sweat is on his forehead and it's only partly down to the exertion of the fight.

"Hobbs is on his way," Rusty says. "And they have Saul here."

"In which case, boys," Bryn smiles, "let's go and find those diamonds."

* * *

He stands aside to let Danny and Rusty out of the door first.

"Glad we made it, Danny-boy. If he's going to be flat on his back with his knees bent over someone's shoulders, I want that someone to be me."

He smiles at the thunder in Danny's face. He runs a hand over his mouth and wipes away sweat and stares at Danny and Rusty.

"You two. Still can't believe it. You can't tell me you've never thought about it. What's the matter, Danny? You got Jamieson's problem?"

Rusty glares at him and he blinks away the sweat and grins because the prize has become that much sweeter, that much more precious. And he wants it badly.

* * *

"Jamieson uses the old servant quarters as holding cells," Bryn says as they make their way down a narrow corridor.

There's a noise up ahead and with an unspoken agreement they separate into rooms, Danny and Rusty one side and Bryn the other.

As they wait in a small, unlit anteroom for whoever to walk past, Danny takes the opportunity to grab a moment alone and starts with the first thing on his mind.

"Jamieson."

Rusty shakes his head in dismissal.

"Out like a light before anything got too heavy."

"Those two."

Rusty shrugs.

"Things got a bit heated. Nothing more."

Danny holds his gaze.

"It could have been more," Rusty admits.

_It would have been more._

"Yeah."

"Bastard knew. He knew, Rusty. He knew and it was a game. _You_ were something to play with." He closes his eyes as the anger suffuses him.

Rusty lays a hand on his arm and Danny opens his eyes.

"What happened back at the hotel?" he asks in a low voice.

Rusty sighs. Danny is staring at him and not letting him go, keeping him pinned into place.

"He…" Reluctantly he finishes the sentence, "...touched me up a little… Danny!" Hissed as Danny's face contorts. "We knew he might-"

Danny is having none of it. "Does the fact that we guessed right make it any better?"

"That's why we have to do this."

"No. That's why we're having this conversation. Change of plan. Because I am not letting you go through with it."

Rusty is already shaking his head.

"I know what you're going to say-"

"-I can-" "-you can't-"

They stare at each other.

"It won't work, Danny. And we need it to work."

"Rus, I won't risk-"

"If you don't let me do this, it won't work. And we will be living looking over our shoulders." He sighs. "Do you really want me to walk around not knowing where he is or what he's doing? Do you really want me to spend every day wondering if this is the day when he turns up in my life and grabs me and forces me-"

"No!" It's pained and it's angry and it tells Rusty that Danny knows exactly what Rusty's doing. He isn't playing fair. But he's playing to win.

"Right. Then let's keep to the plan."

"The plan is already killing me."

Rusty cracks a quick smile.

"You don't look dead yet."

There is no noise now from outside and he opens the door gently to see Bryn emerging from the door opposite.

"C'mon," Bryn instructs and they follow him.

* * *

Bryn leads them down to the servant quarters. There is a man on guard outside a room that must contain the diamonds and the old man. Obviously Jamieson does not think the situation merits a heavy presence and judging by the expression on the man's face, he doesn't even feel that he needs to be there. This is going to be easy.

"Stay here," he says abruptly.

He saunters forward and raises a hand in greeting, smiling even as the guard smiles back with a puzzled look, no doubt certain that he has never seen this man, who obviously knows him, before in his life. Bryn puts him down on the floor with ease. Leaning up against the wall, he catches his breath and finds Rusty has ghosted to his side.

"Saul's in here?"

"Well, that's my guess."

Rusty drops to his knees beside Bryn and applies himself to the lock and Bryn lets the image of a submissive and compliant Rusty wash over him. His fingers start to reach out to Rusty but Rusty is back on his feet and pushing open the door and rushing into the room. He follows.

There are five old men sitting startled on mattresses and Rusty breaks into a smile that simply shines from him and Bryn swallows hard. Oh, he wants to see that smile again. It is intoxicating. Part of him starts to think about ways he can encourage Rusty to oblige. He swallows again and then sees Rusty bend down throw his arms around one of the men.

"Saul! Oh, Saul, we've been so worried. Are you OK? Are you hurt? Have they treated you well?"

"The diamonds. Get the diamonds."

Rusty frowns up at him and then turns back to the old man who is blinking and bewildered and who has a feeble smile forming.

"Saul. Do you remember going to Amsterdam? Do you remember meeting up with Matsui? And going to the offices where the diamonds were kept? And you took the diamonds away and you got on to a train. And then you knew you were being followed and you jumped on to another train. And the net was closing in and you ended up in the Polish countryside-"

Bryn lays a heavy hand on Rusty's shoulder and yanks him to his feet, thrusting him back against the wall.

"This is not "Sesame Street". Find me the damn diamonds."

Rusty glances down at the hand still gripping his shoulder.

"If you let go of me, I'll stand a better chance," he hisses.

Bryn is breathing heavily now. And Rusty is…Rusty is Rusty. Blond and attractive and full-lipped and full of loathing. And there is no need now for restraint. He's proved his point. And he's waited so damn long… Hell, the diamonds can wait a minute or so more. He can't.

His mouth swoops in to claim Rusty's, his hands dragging Rusty's wrists up above his head, his body holding Rusty's in place, even as he feels Rusty fighting furiously to get free, even as he is forcing his way in to Rusty's mouth, even as he is tasting Rusty, deep and long…

With a deep sigh of satisfaction, he pulls away, panting and grins at Rusty's face, full of impotent anger.

"That's scratched an itch. Now, get me my diamonds."

He releases Rusty who rubs his wrists and glares at him and bends down again near the old man and starts talking gently to him, smiling and encouraging and... It's taking too long. It's taking too long and he needs to do something about it.

Pushing Rusty out of the way, he grabs the old man and pulls him upright, his fingers digging in to the old man's arms. The old man whimpers and squirms in his grip.

"Diamonds," he spits. "Where are the fucking diamonds?"

"Gower…?"

He looks over at the doorway. Hobbs is stood there. Older, balder but still Hobbs. He swears to himself. Because everything has just got more complicated.

"Alright, Hobbs."

"What are you doing?" Hobbs wants to know.

His tongue feels thick but he smiles and explains.

"I'm getting the diamonds for you. I told you. You can trust me. Just like Guyana."

Guyana had been a messy affair and there had been cross and double-cross and even he hadn't always been certain who he was siding with. But he'd come out of it smelling of roses and Hobbs had been the lucky man who ended up thinking Bryn had been working for him all along.

Hobbs was looking at the old man in his grip.

"Well, who the fuck is this?"

"The courier."

"The fuck it is. You think I don't know what the courier looks like? I passed the diamonds to him after all."

"This isn't…?"

He stares at the old man, blinking and shivering in his grasp and then drops him and spins on his heel. Rusty is nowhere to be seen. But someone else is in the doorway. Someone else accompanied by muscle that flock into the room and stand impassively as the someone they answer to fixes both Hobbs and Bryn with a gimlet gaze.

"Monsieur Dubois!"

"You." He points to two of his men. "Take these…" he gesticulates at the prisoners and gives up searching for the word. "Take these out of here. Keep them in the main hall and wait for me." Dubois produces a gold fob watch and checks the time. "I should be no more than ten minutes."

Shuffling and forlorn, the old men are escorted from the room.

"Monsieur Dubois, there must be some sort of misunderstanding…"

Hobbs is ingratiating and fawning and the look he is receiving off Dubois indicates that his cover has been blown far and wide. Well, _he_ isn't going to lick anyone's ass.

"Dubois." He keeps his voice neutral and he is gauging the numbers and his chances. They are not in his favour.

"Bryn Gower. The man who thought he could cheat the outfit."

He isn't going to take that.

"Like you didn't set me up." His mouth is dry and he runs a hand over it.

Dubois is frowning. "We didn't set you up."

It sounds genuine. Dubois looks genuine. He blinks back the sweat. He can't be sure. And Dubois must be lying.

"What?" he laughs. "Am I to believe it wasn't you or Cussons or Bossuet? Am I to believe someone I never met before got hold of the combination to my safe and planted stolen money in there-"

He breaks off. Because over Dubois's shoulder, he suddenly sees Danny and Rusty standing by the door. Danny and Rusty. _Danny_ and _Rusty… _He sees Danny and Rusty and he sees the truth.

"No…"

It's long and drawn out and it's disbelief. These…_amateurs_…are responsible? His eyes are wide and unblinking and he can't look away from them. They sent him to prison? They…they…

With a snarl, he leaps towards them and hands are laid on him, holding him back as he ploughs forward. There are five or six men on him and still he is dragging them towards the door, towards the two who took away his wealth, his power and his liberty. He is going to make them pay. Over and over and over again. He will take it out on Rusty and he will make Danny beg. Over and over and over again.

Eventually, he finds his progress is stopped. There is too much weight on his arms. He is feet away from the pair of them and he shakes his head to clear it as he stares at them.

"Goodbye, Bryn," Danny says.

"It's not been nice knowing you," Rusty adds.

And they're gone.

Dubois remains.

"Bryn Gower. I understand that you have been working with my two former associates, Hobbs and Jamieson, to steal from me. I am not surprised. But I am displeased."

He needs to stay conscious. He needs to fight the feeling of weariness that is washing over him. He needs to, he needs to…he needs to…he…needs…to…he…he….

* * *

A/N: Thank you to otherhawk for the "one hell of a distraction" to describe Rusty drinking the cocktail. I agree completely. :)


	21. Exposition and evasion

An Unholy Alliance by InSilva

Disclaimer: I do not own.

Chapter Twenty-Two: Exposition and evasion

* * *

It is the early hours. Dubois has rounded up Jamieson's men and the corridors are empty and echoing. They near the room with the rug and the couch and with an unconscious movement, Danny edges in front of him. But the door is standing open and Rusty can see past Danny's shoulder that Jamieson is gone and Alain and Guillaume have disappeared.

"Just a moment," he says and steps into the room.

Danny frowns and he feels the frown change into a roll of the eyes. He steps back out of the room and smiles.

_We have other things on our mind._

The smile slips away because he knows Danny is waiting for a conversation.

In the main hall, they find the other men who were kept with Saul and Rusty slows up. As Danny watches, small flurries of conversation take place in native languages and names are found and towns identified and information is passed on.

Then, side by side, they walk out of the front door of the chateau and through the grounds and Rusty steers them towards a sleek-looking champagne-coloured car that has "Ready to be hotwired" written all over it.

Danny's hand brushes Rusty's as they pass under trees and Rusty reaches out and squeezes it. They've done it. He wants to fall down and thank whatever gods have been looking out for them. The release of emotion is intense. The ponderous and the draining have evaporated. At the moment, he feels like he could fly.

"Rus." Danny wants to know. Needs to know. And sharing is good and needed and helps. He knows it helps. Even when it hurts to tell and it hurts to listen, it means that they are on the same page. No secrets.

It's the wrong verb but he says "He kissed me" and he hears Danny swear and he sighs.

"Just like the cell," he elaborates. "Bit of powerplay. Brief." It had been long enough. But then that was true of being even a second in Bryn's company.

"It's over, Danny. It's over. That's all we need to focus on."

He looks down at their hands, fingers still locked together and then he looks up at Danny's face and the things he reads, he _knows_ Danny must be reading too.

_It's over. It worked._

And Danny's grip tightens.

* * *

_The meeting with Jamieson is happening. Bryn will be setting it up even as he and Rusty are standing in a hotel room and doing their best not to think about what they see when they close their eyes. _

_He hates every thing that Bryn has done. From the meeting in Gerard's office and the bar across the way through the many ways he has played them. And last night…last night was… Last night was not even the worst that he could do and yet it still feels like it. He imagines the satisfaction in Bryn's face when they meet up again. He imagines Bryn smiling to himself as if he will never stop. He imagines the digs and the poison and the never-ending and the relentless and the supercilious and he remembers Rusty's eyes from his dream: __hollow and empty and defeated and broken. _

_And he imagines further. Not happening. He won't let it. _

"_Let's move."_

_

* * *

__They leave the evening dress hanging up in a shop and walk out dressed in new clothes and Danny hopes Bryn will lose the deposit on the tuxedoes. He looks over at Rusty and sees the strain of the previous night still just beneath the surface. And he thinks about Rusty's memory and hates that he can't take that night away._

"_Michael," he says and Rusty makes the call._

"_I've been trying to reach you," Michael says and as he listens, some part of Danny vaguely acknowledges that it is only a day or so since they last spoke to him. It seems to have been forever. "Hobbs is on the move. His men have been withdrawn and…" There's hesitation._

"_And what, Michael?" Rusty gently prompts and Danny loves that he can be all things reassuring and steady and professional when inside he is shredded and bleeding._

"_And I think your friend has been brought to Jamieson's. I picked up a message that said they'd rounded up some men…"_

_Rusty looks at him and Danny's imagination goes into overdrive. He can feel the dawning plan running through him and he can see it reflected in Rusty's eyes as Rusty sees and understands._

_

* * *

__They travel back to the chateau and they find the tunnel which comes up in the cellar as Bryn has said which is a relief. They can never be sure what he is telling the whole truth about._

"_Where do you reckon?" Rusty asks._

"_Not the front of the house."  
_

"_Somewhere private. Somewhere-"_

"_-out of the way."_

_They ghost through corridors and they have a couple of false starts before they find the little kitchen with the hob that leads into the servant quarters with the singular guard, smoking disconsolately, bored and unimpressed with his assignment._

_Saul. He must be inside and the urge to knock the guard out and break in and grab him and run far away sweeps over both of them. Danny shakes his head and Rusty has a rueful expression. They know it won't work._

"_Distraction," Rusty mutters._

_Danny remembers the kitchen and he smiles when they find the matches._

_Noises off and a little fire and a little smoke and the guard goes to investigate. They open the door in a flash and they see Saul, sitting and looking up at them as if they are the impossible vision they are. He rises without a word and they only hesitate when they look at the other men. They can't take them. To take them with would be to risk their escape. To take them would be to risk their plan for Bryn._

_They lock the door and they make their exit, round the corner and away, even as the guard comes back from the other direction, fire put out and scratching his head and possibly wondering whether he has carelessly discarded a stray cigarette end._

"_Boys…oh, you have great timing." Saul is as emotional as they have heard him and they each have a hand on his arms._

"_We're known for it," Danny smiles._

"_People come to expect it," Rusty adds._

_Saul's eyes flick to Rusty's jaw with the bruise and Rusty sees the question begin to form in his eyes, see him start to open his mouth to ask the question and he leaps in before Saul can do so._

"_Saul, we need to move," he says tersely._

_They move through the tunnel and as they do so, they share parts of the story – Gerard and Matsui and Michael and Duchesse and Dubois and Hobbs and Jamieson. The diamonds that are a trap and the set up and the would-be coup. __By return, Saul talks about escaping and being followed and trains and countryside and a hospital somewhere – "Poland", Rusty says and Saul shrugs – and a truck ride and waiting, waiting in a room for something, someone. __Neither of them mentions Bryn. Neither of them wants to. Neither of them feels the need. Neither of them wants to explain._

"_The diamonds, Saul," Danny asks as they climb out into the church._

_Saul smiles and reaches into his mouth. He pulls off a false gold crown that he has not possessed before he arrived in Amsterdam and carefully removes three tiny black diamonds. _

_Danny and Rusty exchange amused glances._

"_You are a legend, Saul," Rusty says as Saul passes them over into Danny's waiting hand. "Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise."_

_The smile disappears from Saul's face and Rusty braces himself and Danny bites his lip._

"_So, you two gonna treat me like an adult?" Saul asks and there is tightness and concern. "Because I can see what I can see." His eyes fall back down on to the mark by Rusty's mouth._

_Danny's face is stiffly impassive and Rusty knows the effort that is going in to keeping everything locked down. He knows because the expression is replicated on his face and for the same reason. _

"_Saul…" he begins and he knows Saul knows he is about to dismiss any and every thing Saul is worried about._

"_Don't you dare!" Saul says fiercely. "Don't you dare," he repeats, emphasising each word._

_He glares at both of them and they stand silently, saying nothing, verbal or otherwise. They can never lie to Saul. They just don't want him to ask the question. And if he's going to ask it, then they're not going to answer it. Because they can't lie to him._

"_Daniel…" And Danny swallows._

"_Robert…" And Rusty gives an imperceptible shake of his head._

_Saul's shoulders sag and the anger leaves him. There are tears now in his eyes._

"_Can't or won't?" he whispers._

"_Both," Rusty says quietly and hates the spasm of pain that flashes on to Saul's face._

_Saul nods miserably, accepting the fact that he is never going to be told the story._

"_C'mon," Danny says gently. "Let's get out of here."_

_

* * *

__Duchesse is home once more and Danny and Rusty and a newly suited and booted Saul sit amongst the chintz and the satin and Danny craves another favour. Shelter for Saul. Duchesse looks over at the bliss on Chou-Chou's face as Saul scratches behind her ear and smiles acquiescence. _

_

* * *

__Sitting in a café, Rusty calls Michael._

"_Thank you," he says before Michael can say a word. "Thank you so much."  
_

"_You found him!" And Michael sounds as happy as if Saul mattered to him as much as he matters to Danny and Rusty._

"_We have. And listen. We couldn't have done it without you."  
_

"_Oh…" Michael starts down the self-deprecating route but Rusty won't let him._

"_We want to do something for you, Michael. How would you like to come back home? We know a tech guy who could find an opening for you. What do you reckon?"  
_

"_Home…?" There's an almost painful longing in Michael's voice. _

"_Well?"_

"_Yes. Oh, yes." Definite and joyful and seizing the day._

_Rusty nods at Danny who starts dialling a number._

"_You need to find a man called Matsui. He'll be expecting you. Here's his address."_

_And as he hangs up, he hears Danny confirming details with Matsui._

"_Please look after him, Matsui. Yes, first class airfare. And tell him we'll pick up with him later this week."_

_As Danny closes the phone, he looks across at Rusty and Rusty can see the argument starting._

"_Yes, we still need to go through with it. Yes, we need to go back to Bryn. Yes, I still need to meet up with Jamieson."  
_

"_It's not necessary. We can find another way. Another plan."_

"_You know it's the best and most direct way. And the quickest way to be rid of him. Danny," he leans forward and lays a hand on Danny's arm, "in a few hours he will be out of our lives forever."  
_

_Danny sighs._

"_Then we get you some drugs."  
_

"_Do I look like I need them?"_

_Danny ignores him._

"_Something powerful. I'm not taking any chances with Jamieson."_

_Rusty nods because he knows this is probably the only way Danny is going to feel close to comfortable about waving him off. _

"_And something for Bryn," Danny adds. "Something to slow him down."_

"_Slow-acting," Rusty agrees._

"_Take the edge off his thinking. Take the edge off his strength."  
_

_He looks over at Rusty and sighs again and Rusty knows he is thinking ahead._

"_It's the only way it's going to work. You know that, Danny. And by the time we get to the guard and the door, that drug is going to be in his system. And all I need to do is buy you time to bring in Dubois."_

"_Yeah." Danny does not look happy about it in the slightest. "We still need him to drink it down."_

"_Simple," Rusty suggests. "I'll order a cocktail."_

_As he picks up the phone to call Dubois, Danny's mouth twists. Because it will be one hell of a distraction. It always is._

_

* * *

__Dubois is receptive. Even more so when Danny promises to hand over the diamonds. _

"_I will be there and I will wait in the grounds for you to contact me. I know the chateau well. I owned it before Jamieson. It was my gift to him."_

"_There are some innocent men being held there. We would like assurances that they be returned to their homes."_

"_I am not a monster," Dubois says and there is hauteur in his voice. "Of course they will be returned."_

"_Bryn Gower," says Danny firmly._

"_I do not have fond memories of Bryn. And the phone conversation you played me shows he is acting with Hobbs. He deserves the same reward."_

_Danny exhales. They have to play for keeps and he has no qualms about doing so where Bryn is concerned._

* * *

They drive the stolen car back to Duchesse's. "I will wait up," she has said and she is true to her word.

"Your friend and I have been having a lovely game of cards," she trills and they wonder a little at the sudden flush in Saul's face.

"Duchesse, we are in your debt," Danny says, kissing her hand with brio.

"We hope this small gesture will go some way to showing our gratitude," Rusty adds, producing a tiny jewelled snuff-box.

"La, la…" Duchesse's eyes light up. "Such a pretty trinket. I love it."

* * *

They catch the night flight back to the States. Saul sleeps. Danny and Rusty are seated next to each other, shoulder to shoulder and if they sit a little closer than they need to, if their hands rest a little nearer than they have to, if their heads lean in to one another more than is socially usual, they decide they can be forgiven.

It's over. They've left the nightmare behind.

* * *

Late the next day the three of them call in to see Gerard.

"Saul!" he says with genuine pleasure. "I had no idea this was going to get complicated. I am so glad to see you."

Saul's mouth twitches at the euphemism "complicated".

"Thank you, Gerard."

"And my diamonds?"

"There's a story," Danny begins.

When he's finished and Gerard has fully understood about how he has been played by Hobbs who has contacted him in the first place, about how he has been the scapegoat in Hobbs and Jamieson's plan to depose Dubois, his mouth sets tightly.

"I don't like being used," he says plainly.

"Hobbs and Jamieson are getting their comeuppance," Rusty explains.

"Because Dubois doesn't like being played either," Danny adds.

Gerard thinks this over and then nods. "Good. And what about Bryn Gower?"

They can feel the question echoed in Saul.

Danny smiles. "Seems Bryn was playing both sides, Gerard."

He holds up the recording that Michael has supplied of Bryn's conversation with Hobbs, convincing Hobbs that he is on his side.

"Dubois is dealing with Bryn too," Rusty says and cannot stop the feeling of exhilaration at the thought.

Gerard scowls. "I hope he suffers. The man has a considerable amount of my money. Not your fault, guys, I know. But I have no diamonds and no money."

"We did bring you back a souvenir." Rusty fishes another tiny spectacular snuff-box out of his pocket. "It's not much-"

"-but it's priceless," Danny finishes.

Gerard turns it over in his hand and starts to smile.

"Thank you," he says sincerely. "Thank all of you. If you need a favour, call me."

* * *

They travel with Saul to the airport and to give him credit, he waits until they are sat at the gate with him before he mentions it.

"Bryn Gower?"

"Nasty complication," Danny borrows Gerard's euphemism.

"Believe us, you don't want the details."

Saul hesitates and reluctantly accepts the non-explanation and he gives both of them his patented hard stare. They stand up to the inspection. There is nothing more to worry about with Bryn and they can be truthful about what their faces tell Saul.

They wave his plane off and Rusty stretches and rolls his head around his shoulders.

"I could do with a vacation."

"Somewhere sunny."

"Somewhere with gelati."

"What is it with you and gelati?"

Rusty shrugs.

"It's ice-cream but it's better."

* * *

They call Livingston and they put him in touch with Michael. An extraordinarily grateful Michael who sounds as if he has a new lease of life.

"He'll do well with Livingston's connections," Rusty suggests.

"He sounds happy."

"That's because we told him it was over." Rusty can still remember the choking gasp of happiness from Michael at the news that Bryn has been dealt with. "It's impossible not to be happy."

* * *

They holiday in Florence. No jobs. Plenty of gelati. Lots of downtime. Recovery time. Time where they do not have to worry.

Danny looks at Rusty and sees the freedom back in his eyes, the weight lifted from his soul and he smiles. It is a joy to see Rusty whole again.

Rusty looks at Danny and sees the worry that knitted itself into his expression gone, the fear of not being able to help evaporated and he smiles. Danny is himself once more.

There are bad dreams. There are times when they wake – and they are still sharing a room and a bed by unspoken agreement – and they hold the other one just a little tightly, as if to reassure themselves. But gradually the horror memories of Amsterdam and Paris die away.

"Ready to go home now," Rusty says one day and Danny nods at the question that isn't. Time to move on. Time to use their talents.

* * *

A/N: Hope it all made sense. :) Oh, I appear to have thanked otherhawk a chapter early. But that's good, because I can thank her again now. For the line and a hundred other ways she's helped with this fic. Lake Tahoma, I'm telling you.

Oh, by the way, chapter twenty-three is an M. It will be entitled "An Unholy Alliance Chapter Twenty-Three" and it will be posted soon(ish).


	22. Safe Distance

An Unholy Alliance by InSilva

Disclaimer: they aren't very happy with me at the moment.

Chapter Twenty-Four: Safe Distance

* * *

In the corridor outside, Danny sees Rusty's eyes lock on to the door opposite.

"Michael," he says dully.

"I know," Danny replies bleakly. "I checked there first."

_He'd torn into the room and he'd been brought up short, horrified and then he'd backed away and closed the door and seen Rusty's phone lying on the floor and snatched it up and spun round and round looking and wondering and searching and then he'd see 777 and he'd remembered Bryn and the number and the room opposite and somewhere, nowhere in the real world, he'd heard Rusty cry out his name and after that he didn't remember anything until he was standing in the room and looking at the worst he could imagine._

They move along the corridor a little way and Danny feels the strain between needing to put as much distance between them and Bryn and the certain knowledge that Rusty is barely holding on to his self-control.

Danny punches on two doors before there is no answer. And he moves quickly to break the lock and kick the door open. The room has guests but they are not home. Danny fastens the door and then looks to see Rusty clutching furniture and dragging himself determinedly towards the bathroom. He catches up with him as he grips the sink and Danny can see he is avoiding the mirror at all costs.

"Your arm, Rusty," Danny says, looking at the blood soaking through the shirt and trying not to see how it is hanging unnaturally at Rusty's side. Rusty has other priorities.

"Mouthwash."

Danny searches through a wash bag and finds some, unscrewing the top. Rusty grabs it from him, drinking it neat, drinking it down until he suddenly retches and Danny waits in silence, rubbing his back gently as he throws up down the sink like he's never going to stop. Eventually he does. He wipes his mouth on the back of his good hand and then looks down at the hand and his chest and starts to shake violently.

Danny sees the shock and the horror emerging and steps in.

"Rus…"

He wants to say "It's OK" but it is so very far from fucking OK he doesn't know where to begin. The violence offered. The assault and the viciousness. It's everything he's wanted to protect Rusty from. It's everything he's feared since Bryn walked back into their lives and the actuality of it all is as brutal and jagged as anything he has imagined.

"Shower, Danny…" Rusty looks down at himself and Danny sees him biting back the scream. And then Rusty looks at him, at _Danny_ as if seeing him for the first time. As if finally registering the bruises and the blood. Rusty lets out a small inarticulate moan.

Danny shakes his head. "It's nothing, Rus," he dismisses.

_You know I'd go through this and more._

Rusty screws his eyes shut and then opens them with such unspeakable pain inside them. And that's…Danny frowns. That's…that's understandable, he guesses. Danny looks at him.

"Can you bear me to-"

"Do it," Rusty says tightly.

Danny starts to loosen the tie around Rusty's neck and he grimaces at the red and angry marks round Rusty's throat. He thinks about Bryn, wrapping his fingers round the tie and twisting and twisting, tighter and tighter… Rusty shakes his head.

"Cut it. Cut everything."

Material is sliced. Shoes are pulled free. And Rusty stands naked and miserable, leaning up against the bathroom wall, looking like he could collapse at any moment. His knee is swollen; his arm is simply wrong. Either and both look painful as hell. And Danny knows neither is what is troubling Rusty. Danny shrugs his own jacket off and starts to pull his turtleneck over his head.

"What are you doing?"

Rusty's voice stops him and he blinks. Isn't it obvious?

"Rus, you've got a broken arm and a busted leg. You need help just staying upright."

"I'll manage." Calm.

"Rus-"

"Just get me a chair, Danny." Calm and reasonable.

"Rusty…"

"Danny!" The calm has gone. Reason is nowhere to be seen. Rusty is close to breaking.

Wordlessly, Danny fetches a chair, part of him reflecting as he did so that actually, if the real inhabitants of the room return, finding two naked men in the shower might be a tricky one to glide out of. He helps Rusty sit down and he reaches up to the shower to turn it on and hesitates.

"S'alright," Rusty says quietly. "I'm not going to…"

The words are left unsaid. The ghost of the shower and the nailbrush rises up between them. Danny looks at him for a long moment and then he hands him the soap and hits the water.

* * *

Rusty keeps his injured arm away from the shower jets. The water is hot (but it's never going to be hot enough). The soap is perfumed (but the smell is always going to be there anytime he thinks about it). He cleans himself mechanically, his hand moving over and over his body, his eyes watching without emotion as all physical trace of Bryn disappears with the water.

He pushes everything away because he can't give in to anything. Not to the sight of Michael, murdered. Not to Bryn's hands running over his body. Not to Bryn using him to pleasure himself. Not to Bryn's fingers in his mouth. Not to the taste of Bryn on his tongue. Not to the cruelty in Bryn's face. Not to Bryn's words…

The chair isn't Danny. The chair isn't warmth and safety and love. He can imagine the support of leaning back against Danny; of Danny taking charge; of not having to think because Danny would be thinking for both of them…

It's better that it's a chair. It's better that it is hard and awkward and unhelpful and unfeeling. It makes him work. It keeps him focused.

_Bryn… _He almost cries out but he locks it down tight. He drives it all away, deep down and buried. His face regains its veneer of control. He can't fold now. There's too much to do.

* * *

Outside in the bedroom, Danny sits on the bed and studies his bleeding knuckles. There is a box of tissues on the dressing table and he wipes away the blood from his mouth and he concentrates on cleaning himself up as best he can. He pushes away the memory of further along the corridor, of the horror of what Bryn has done. If he thinks too much about it, he will fold and he needs to be strong for Rusty.

* * *

Later and Danny is sitting in the Accident and Emergency section of the nearest hospital waiting and trying not to scream. He keeps throwing sideways glances at Rusty next to him, dressed in the luridly coloured sweatpants and zip up top that Danny has found while he showered. Rusty's injured arm is cradled inside the top and he is staring straight ahead and nowhere near Danny. Danny wants to think that the withdrawal is down to pain management and the presence of strangers. He hopes it is down to that. He prays it is down to that.

_They step out of the hotel room and there are people in the corridor. Danny sees Rusty close his eyes and his grip on him tightens. They don't want crowds. He moves Rusty away and down in the elevator and out and they are standing on the street outside. _

_His car is nowhere in sight. Towed away, he guesses._

"_You parked here?" he asks and Rusty nods wordlessly._

_As they drive, Rusty says, "Michael" and Danny sighs._

"_He trusted me, Danny. He trusted me-"_

"_-he trusted us."_

_Rusty ignores the correction._

"_-and he helped me. He helped defeat Bryn. Do you know why? Because he knew what Bryn was like. Firsthand. And he didn't want me to face that. Because he liked me. Because I made him like me."  
_

_Danny lets out a noise of exasperation._

"_It wasn't you. It wasn't us. It was Bryn."_

"_If I hadn't used him, Danny, he'd still be alive."_

"_You didn't – _we_ didn't use him. Not like you mean it."_

_Rusty's gaze had turned to him then._

"_There's no other way to mean it." And they were going to be talking about this again, Danny knew, but right now… "Danny, what about his body?"_

_As they'd parked up at the hospital, Danny pulls his phone out and dials Bobby._

"_Need your help, Bobby."_

"_Why am I not surprised?" comes the mutter the other end but with the affection showing to say that Bobby doesn't mean it._

"_We're home. Inter-Continental in town. Need a discreet cop to go to room 776."  
_

_Bobby is making notes. "What's the discreet cop going to find?"_

"_Dead body," and he can see Bobby's face and he wishes he had time to sugarcoat his words but Rusty is leaning against him for real physical support and he has to address that. "The man responsible is unconscious in the room opposite, 777. And, Bobby, tell whomever you send that he is dangerous."_

"_Armed?"_

"_Doesn't need to be." _

They have waited at the desk and given details and he's spun some line even as Rusty has stood alongside him and said nothing and has stared down blankly at the wooden desk.

Charm and ease of manner are still light years away from what he is capable of and the nurse has read the anxiety and his hand clutching Rusty and the marks on his face and has glimpsed the red mark on Rusty's neck and looked at Rusty's expression and has made an unlikely total of it all in her head. A suspicious look has been thrown his way and some part of him wants to laugh and cry at the same time that people do and that that can backfire. Rusty has said nothing though and benefits of doubt have been given and now they are sitting waiting to be seen.

Waiting is agony. Danny wants to grab someone and make them look at Rusty, make them help him, make them take away the physical pain. He can't do it himself. He isn't a doctor or a surgeon and he isn't a miracle-worker either. He can't lay on healing hands and mend the break or take the swelling down in Rusty's knee.

And these are just the exterior signs, the tip of the iceberg, that can be dealt with practically, like the shower has washed away the tangible filth of Bryn. What's going on inside Rusty's head is another matter entirely.

His phone buzzes again and he checks again. Saul has called three times while they have been waiting and guilty though he is about the change of dinner plans, he isn't up to handling Saul. This time, though it's Bobby. He feels Rusty's eyes on his as he answers.

"I'm sorry, Danny."

He frowns because it sounds like Bobby thinks he's failed him.

"There was no one."

_No one?_

"The rooms were empty."

_Empty_…and he is certain that the flicker of panic in his eyes is momentary.

"Danny…? Danny, you want anything? Can I do anything? You guys need me to-"

"It's fine, Bobby." It is less than fine. "Thanks."

He snaps the phone shut and before he can speak, Rusty sighs.

"You know what I could do with right now, Danny? A soda. Soda and chips and chocolate. Please."

Rusty's eyes are closed and there is fatigue in his face and where the hell is the doctor? Food. Food and drink and he should have thought about it. Should have been smarter. Should have been there sooner.

He looks round. The vending machines are just visible down a side corridor.

"OK. I'll be as quick as I can."

"Take as long as you want," Rusty says, his eyes still shut.

He stands up and walks to the machines, patting his pockets for change and pulling out a handful of quarters. His phone goes again and it's Saul once more but he still has other priorities and he turns the phone off. Hershey bar, of course. Probably that should be plural. And potato chips and soda, not diet soda, never diet soda, Rusty likes the sugar hit, Rusty _needs_ the sugar hit… His conscious thoughts, busy with the mundane, tail off. His subconscious is screaming at him. He spins on his heel and stares back at the waiting room.

Rusty is nowhere to be seen.

* * *

The hardest thing in the world is walking away from whatever – whomever - you love best. Giving up the con would be bad. Forsaking cards would not be good. Leaving Danny behind is the worst pain ever.

He has tried to do it before. He has spent a cab ride and a long wait in a room at an airport trying to be strong enough to survive alone. It had been agony. The selfish in him wants to stay where he is. To let Danny take care of him. Just like he did in a hotel room a hundred miles and a thousand days ago. To let Danny share the horror and to feel the comfort in words and looks and touches.

He can't.

Bryn is somewhere out there. He can tell from the phone call and Danny's reaction. Unaccounted for and on the loose and wonderful comfort though it is, Rusty knows Danny cannot be anywhere near him. Danny has to be far, far away. Danny is a target. Just like Michael was. He can't have him out there and vulnerable. Not Danny…not after… No.

He ignores the searing complaint from his knee and he hobbles out of the hospital doors. Someone rushes in and glances past his arm and the dull ache flares into the blinding and he pauses for a moment, leaning against the wall outside, his eyes squeezed shut and he swallows, riding the wave. He will need to find another hospital and he will need to get this sorted. And then he will phone Michael's phone and he will tell Bryn…oh, God…he will tell Bryn he will meet him and-

"Decide you want takeout instead?"

His eyes spring open and Danny is stood there, looking less than amused.

"Needed some air."

The smile is there and gone on Danny's face.

_Don't even bother._

* * *

Pain-killers have been issued and he has watched carefully to make sure Rusty takes them and doesn't palm them. Rusty's knee is strapped and the plaster of Paris arrangement on his arm, pulled through the now right-armless zip top, is right-angled and ridiculous. Four months has been mentioned and Rusty has just stared at the doctor and Danny has known he must hide all circular saws because Rusty never gives himself proper healing time and this will be no different.

Now they are sitting in a hotel room somewhere out of town. Danny is not even sure which town. He has driven and driven and Rusty has not said a word and it has silently killed Danny. When he can stand it no longer, he has stopped.

They check in and there are curious glances and Danny moves in front of Rusty, to shield him. Rusty doesn't even notice the stares and that is normal and at the same time very abnormal.

"Double," Danny requests and "Twin," Rusty corrects him.

He looks at Rusty for a long moment but Rusty's gaze is on the clock on the wall behind the receptionist and Danny lets it go. For now.

But now they are in the room, now the door is shut and locked and the curtains are drawn and there is just the two of them and now, Danny needs to check. Except Rusty beats him to it.

"I wanted some space for the cast," he says, looking down at the monstrosity that is attached to him. "That's all."

It could be…it could be… Danny stares at him again and this time, Rusty flicks a look of anger up at him.

"You don't have to stand suicide watch. What am I going to do? Rip out my tongue? Chop my hand off? Peel my skin from my body?" He laughs without humour.

_As if it would make the slightest difference anyway._

"Rus…"

"I want to sleep, Danny."

"We need to talk." They do. There has been distance between them since he left Bryn in a heap and the distance is growing.

"Later."

Rusty closes his eyes as if that is an end to the argument. Danny opens his mouth to protest but he shuts it again. He can't drag Rusty back from wherever he is. He can't bully the truth from Rusty. He needs to be patient.

Danny looks over at the other bed, lonely and remote and then back at Rusty, just the same. He sits down in the easy chair and thinks about Bryn, whereabouts unknown. The desire to run out and find him and finish him off is insane and intense. He looks again at Rusty, face drawn and pinched with pain and strain. His place is here. It always is and it always will be.

* * *

He lies with his eyes closed and wonders if sleep will ever come again and if it does, what it will bring. Danny won't let him go and that's hardly unexpected. If Danny ever tried to ditch him, he would be after him like a shot. He stops himself from opening his eyes and looking at the door. He cannot stop Bryn's words playing in his head. There's reassurance in knowing where Danny is, that Danny is safe. He gives in to the reassurance and the fatigue and tells himself he will not try again tonight. Tomorrow is a different matter.

* * *

Rusty's breathing is even and it is possible that he is asleep. Danny is not convinced. Something is wrong and as the words form in his head, he wants to laugh because _everything_ is wrong. Rusty does and doesn't want him there. Rusty does and doesn't want him in the same room. And the wrongest thing of all is that Rusty doesn't want him to touch him. He has eschewed all non-essential physical contact. When has that ever been a problem? And OK, he can understand that after the rawness of Bryn, Rusty is still sensitive but this is him, this is _them._

He thinks back to the aftermath of the night of hell and the kiss that wasn't comfort. Bryn. Bastard.

Something digs into his ribs and he pulls the little camera free. He stares at it. He wants to smash it underfoot as he has the video tape. His eyes lift up to Rusty lying on the bed. He could get the truth from Rusty by pressure. By plea. By playing as fair as Rusty ever did. Or he could wait. Wait for Rusty to share in his own good time. But something tells Danny that that may not be happening. There is an edge to Rusty, an underlying desperation and Danny isn't sure it is anything to do with the physical trauma Rusty has been through. He needs to find out what's going on. It's the only way he can help.

He hits play and rewind and the lowest volume setting and he stops as Rusty flies at Bryn. Wincing, he sees Bryn put Rusty down on the floor and then there is the absolute horror of what Bryn puts Rusty through before he sees himself breaking into the room and exploding in fury. Danny hits pause and closes his eyes. The assault is awful. It is vile. He has seen Rusty's face throughout and he wants to cry out for the anger and the revulsion that change into the vulnerable and the exposed. Hollow and empty and defeated and broken are not far off.

But this isn't it. He's missing something. He stops and rewinds to the beginning. Panting heavily, blood on his face, Bryn grins up at him.

"He's on his way."

There is eagerness and a light in Bryn's eyes that makes Danny want to start hitting him all over again. Bryn disappears off camera and then there is a flurry of violence as Rusty is dragged into the room and slips his captor's grasp. Danny listens to the door being jammed and he hears Bryn talking about how he escaped.

"_Revenge, Rusty. It's a beautiful thing. Ask Michael."_

_Rusty says nothing._

"_I've been planning long and hard for this moment. Took me an age to track Michael down. You should have seen his face…"_

"_You didn't have to-"_

"_-oh, but I did, Rusty. I most certainly did. Eventually, I will probably kill you and Danny-boy but there is so much fun to be had in the meantime. Control and power and play. Lovely."_

Danny bites his lip and shoots an anxious glance over at Rusty who has not stirred. He turns his attention back to the camera: Bryn is speaking again.

"_You know what happens next, Rusty. Yes, you know. And I am going to leave you alive because I should like Danny to find you, broken and bleeding and helpless and to know that you are alive because I permit it. And if Danny were to ride in here now, I would happily show him some merciful excess before I left you both here to lick your wounds. I want you alive, Rusty. I want you looking over your shoulder and wondering when. Because there will be a when. There will always be a when. And I will have you and I will have Danny-boy somewhere where you cannot get away."_

The words are a promise and the camera is angled so that Danny can see the words biting into Rusty. He is lost in the moment with Bryn and Rusty and he doesn't see the tiny movement on the bed nor the way Rusty's fist clenches.

* * *

He lies and listens to the faint sound and he is back with Bryn...

"I got the two of you figured out up here." Bryn taps the side of his head. "I know how you work, remember. I had Danny-boy down on his knees ready to save you."

He doesn't need the reminder. He still thinks about that. He still hates the thought of that.

"And you'd do anything for him too, wouldn't you? I mean I've lived with the two of you. Don't tell me any different. You'd be ready to swallow my piss and shit if I told you to so long as it kept Danny-boy safe."

It's Bryn saying it and oh, how he wants to deny it. To tell Bryn that it isn't the way it is. But he can't. How can he?

"And if I said to you that you had a choice. To be fucked by me or Danny. You'd keep him well out of it. Wouldn't you?"

He would. He would. He wouldn't want Danny, he wouldn't want _them_ to be so exposed to Bryn's voyeuristic streak. To feel Bryn's eyes on them. On _them_.

"But if I had both of you and I asked Danny…did he want to fuck you or did he want to watch me do it…"

_Danny…_ Needles of pain start dancing behind his eyes. Danny wouldn't let Bryn anywhere near him. He'd do it. Under duress and he, Rusty, would understand and would forgive even while his eyes were busy telling Danny he was an idiot.

Bryn is watching his face.

"Yeah," he agrees. "That's what I thought. He'd be quick and gentle and loving. I can see it."

So can he. Danny's eyes with so much ache in them. And he himself would be strong and neither of them would take their eyes off each other and neither of them would make a noise and it would be complete hell.

Bryn's smile is piranhic.

"Think about this, though. What if I told him that there's a choice as to who I fucked. And it could be him not you. And all he has to do to make that happen is to fuck you first."

Wasn't that the same…? No, no, this was a new game.

"And suppose I told you that if you kept him at bay, I'd choose you instead of him."

Well, that would mean… He stares open-mouthed at Bryn.

"I'd give him a time limit. Say, an hour?"

Danny would…and he wouldn't…he couldn't let him…because if Danny did, Bryn would… He screws up his eyes.

"Can you see it this time, Rus? Not so gentle. Not so loving. Not so quick either, because you would put up a fight. Maybe he'd have to hit you, Rus, to get you to co-operate. Maybe he'd have to hold you down. He's got the edge on brute strength, I feel. He'd be very sorry about it. He'd apologise as he did it. He'd still do it. Maybe he'd even enjoy it. Think about that, Rusty. Think about his weight on top of you. Face down I think. He wouldn't want to see your eyes. Think about him moving inside you. When it's the last thing you want. And I should want him to come. I should like to see the evidence and besides, all that effort? He'd deserve a little pleasure."

His mouth is dry and his nails are digging into his palms and he can't stop the damn pictures running through his mind.

"And when he'd finished? That's when I'd start. I'd take him in front of you. And I would be watching you. I'd want to see your face."

"No." He can't help it. _Danny…_

"I told him I'd have trouble getting it up for him but if I could see your face…"

"No!" He can't stop it. _Danny…_

"Oh, don't worry. I'd give you another shot. Thirty minutes this time. Then twenty. Then ten. Can you see Danny getting that little more frantic each time? Not gentle at all now. Rough. Desperate. Hurting. Not the beauty of making love. Not the joy of sex. Just cold, hard fucking."

"No!" He can't stand it. _Danny…_

"Danny grabbing you. Danny forcing himself on you."

"No. No. He wouldn't play your game," he snarls.

"He wouldn't be able to help himself."

"Then I wouldn't play-"

Bryn cuts him off with a laugh.

"Really. You'd roll over and let him fuck you and then you'd sit and watch me, my hands on his body, my fingers digging into him…"

"Yes." _No._

"You'd sit patiently while I was thrusting away inside him…"

"Yes." _No. No._

"…while I was hurting him…"

_No…no…no._

"…when there was something you could have done to stop it…"

"No!" Dragged from him.

"No," Bryn agrees. "Danny won't do that either. But look. The time limits get shorter and you stand more of a chance of holding out." His eyes half-close. "Mmm. I can see the delight on your face when you do. And then I'd get to play every which way with you. Danny-boy would die."

Bryn's eyes snap open.

"But that's then. This is now._  
_

* * *

He can't help it. He gives a little choking noise and Danny is sitting beside him in an instant, the camera abandoned. He opens his eyes and he turns his head to look up at Danny. Danny has the same misery in his eyes.

"Rus…"

Danny's hand reaches out to stroke his cheek and he can't help himself. He lays his face down on fingers that have always meant gentleness, that have always been caring and then he wrenches his head away and stares at the wall the other side.

"He knows how we work, Danny. He knows what buttons to press to get results. He'd make us…he would break us…"

"Rusty."

"You heard him." And the emotion is rich in Rusty's voice. "You heard him…" He looks at Danny and he smiles helplessly. "I guess self-sacrifice isn't all it's cracked up to be."

Danny's hand is on his. Danny's other hand is pressed to his cheek and he buries his lips in it briefly.

"He's out there, isn't he? I saw your face when Bobby called. Danny…"

"I-"

He sees the _"I won't let him touch you" _die on Danny's lips.

"What do we do, Danny? Hmm? What do we do. Run for the rest of our lives? Do we get in first and cross the line? What the fuck do we do? He's got our real names. He knows about us and he knows about _us_. And he is Arnie. He absolutely will not stop. How the fuck are we going to live the rest of our lives? What do we do to keep ourselves safe? What do we do…"

He breaks off and stares in horror at Danny.

"What do we do to keep Saul safe?"

And he sees the guilt and terror as unreturned phone calls work their way through Danny and out the other side.


	23. Final Act

An Unholy Alliance by InSilva

Disclaimer: no, not mine.

Chapter Twenty-Five: Final Act

* * *

Back in the bar, Saul stares after Danny and ponders. Something in Danny does not feel right. Fear is spiking through him and Saul knows only one thing that can produce that particular effect.

Rusty is threatened. Somehow, somewhere.

He thinks back to the rescue and the stress they have both tried to hide and the name that they tried to keep from him. Bryn Gower. It means nothing to him. The careful non-reactions he witnessed tell him that it means more than it should to Danny and Rusty.

Danny must be headed to Rusty and that means the Inter-Continental. He knows he is correct when he sees Danny's car abandoned in traffic and he climbs out of the taxicab and hurries on foot into the hotel. Danny is nowhere to be seen. Rusty is nowhere in sight.

Saul approaches the front desk and prepares himself to ask polite but insistent questions and to produce a large amount of greenback persuasion.

* * *

He rounds the corner of the corridor in time to see Danny and Rusty coming out of a room further up. Rusty is…Saul's eyes widen in horror. Half-clothed and hurting and hanging on to Danny and Danny is bloodied and bruised and little better off. He opens his mouth to call to them but they are moving away from him now and disappearing into another bedroom and he doesn't say a word. Danny will take care of Rusty. That is an immutable fact.

Saul's attention switches to the room. The rooms, in fact because he has been told 776 though the boys have emerged from the room opposite. He opens the door to 776 first and stares in silence at the corpse on the bed. This must be Michael. And he never got to thank him.

Saul turns on his heel and opens room 777. There is the smell of sex and violence in the air. Rusty's jacket is crumpled on the floor and he picks it up and gathers it to him. He looks down at the powerfully-built man lying sprawled and beaten and unconscious. Saul's imagination is none too shabby. This is Rusty's attacker. This is Danny's handiwork. This has to be Bryn Gower.

He pulls the phone from his pocket and he makes a call.

"Gerard? Saul Bloom. I'd like to call in that favour."

Gerard's men are quick and efficient. Michael's body is removed with the care that Saul insists on and still out for the count, Bryn is slung into the back of a van with considerably less delicacy.

"I'm coming too," Saul says in a tone that brooks no argument and he climbs in the back of the van, his eyes locked on Bryn. He needs to make sure he knows what happens.

* * *

His head aches. He swims back into consciousness, feathers of thought about pleasure and pain tickling his mind. Conquest assured and defeat unexpected in short measure. He blinks up into a brightly-lit, windowless room that screams death and violence. Senses suddenly sharp and focused, he forces himself to wake up and take stock. He is tied to a chair and the knots are tight. There are men surrounding him but he recognises only Gerard.

"What good timing, Bryn," Gerard compliments him. "I have tickets for a play and I would sincerely hate to miss it."

"Gerard…" his voice sounds raspy and he swallows a couple of times. "Gerard…" Better. Stronger. "I have your money."

"I know you do, Bryn. I know you do."

"I mean I'll get your money for you."

"Well, that would be nice," Gerard nods.

He is safe. Gerard wants his cash back. As soon as he is free, as soon as he is out of the room, he can get away…

"But that's not what this is about."

Gerard's words snap him back into the moment.

"This is about you betraying me. I heard your little conversation with Hobbs. This is about lessons to be learned. Actually, it's more about lessons to be taught. You are not going to be in a position where you can betray me again. And others will learn that it is foolish to try."

Darkness approaches. And as he looks at the terminator, the line separating light from dark, day from night, life from death, he opens his mouth to speak.

"Take his tongue, boys," Gerard suggests pleasantly. "After that, cut him up how you like."

* * *

"Thank you, Saul."

Gerard is genuine and effusive and Saul swallows hard. He has been told to wait outside the room. Gerard does not want him in there. But he has heard the struggle. He has heard the rage dying into dying screams and his fingers have knotted into Rusty's jacket. He knows he will hear the noises for some time to come.

"Taking care of Bryn Gower is more about pest control," Gerard is saying. "I don't consider this a favour."

Saul looks at him.

"In that case," he says quietly, "can I ask for something else?"

* * *

Saul has tried to phone Danny several times. He gets no answer or the messaging service. Where they are, he has no clue. Hospital, he hopes, from the little he's seen. And thereafter… Danny would take them somewhere safe. He would find somewhere they can bury themselves and Saul can picture them holing up as he knows they've done at other times of pain and trial.

He sits in a bar with a large whisky and picks up the phone to try again. He needs to reach them. Unexpectedly, it rings before he can dial. Danny.

"Saul? Saul, are you OK?"

There is real panic in Danny's voice. No banter, no play, no pleasantries.

"I'm fine," he says with surprise. "I've been trying to reach you."

"I know, I know…Saul, you need to get to a public place. Call someone you trust. Rusty and I would…we can't…Reuben. Call Reuben."

Saul listens to the stream of earnest that flows out of the phone and breaks into it with, "Bryn Gower".

There is silence. And then there is a little choking noise that he thinks comes from Rusty and Danny is speaking again, low and urgent.

"Saul. Is he with you?"

"No, no-"

"Is he making you…has he hurt you?"

"No-"

"Can you tell me where you are? I'll come and - no, Rusty, it's not happening – I'll come and-"

"Listen!" He cuts Danny off. "Bryn Gower is dead."

There is silence again and then Danny carefully says, "Dead?"

"Yes." Insistent.

"How do you…are you sure?"

"Yes. I followed you to the hotel. I saw…" Saul swallows. "I saw."

He can picture the expressions the other end and he winces. Neither of them likes to share.

"I found Michael," Saul continues, "and I found Bryn. Then I called Gerard and he took care of things."

"How?" Danny's question is sharp.

"He's arranging for Michael to be buried with all decorum. And Bryn found out that Gerard is not a good man to try and cross. Bryn is dead, Danny."

The silence hangs heavy this time and then there is a mirthless laugh.

"Forgive me, Saul. It's just that we thought he was out of our lives three times now. Somehow he just keeps turning up."

Saul hears the anger and the absolute hatred and the edge of despair in there. He can't begin to imagine how the boys have crossed paths with Bryn in the past but he shivers for whatever has produced that reaction.

"He's gone, Danny. I saw the body. I made Gerard show me. He's gone."

There is a pause that seems to last a lifetime and then he hears:

"Saul…are you sure?"

It's Rusty and Saul's heart knots at the vulnerability in Rusty's voice. He thinks back to the room and the blood on the carpet and the smell in the air and the sight of Rusty in the corridor and his fingers tighten on Rusty's jacket. Saul doesn't know details. The boys have kept the details from him. But the rescue mission has brought them into contact with Bryn Gower and there is history between them. And that history is evident in the raw sound from Rusty.

"I'm sure, Rusty," and his voice is warm and sincere. "The man is dead."

"Thanks, Saul." It's Danny again. "Thank you so much."

Rich emotion is leaping down the phone at him.

"It's fine, Danny." The vision of the two of them outside the hotel room swims into view. "Danny…how is he? How are you?"

"Free, Saul. We're free."

* * *

Danny hangs up and looks at Rusty sat beside him. His final words to Saul hang in the air and Rusty reaches out to him and pulls him close and he holds Rusty tightly, his hand on the back of Rusty's head, his cheek resting against Rusty's.

Time passes.

Danny is aware of wetness on his face. The tears aren't his. He strokes Rusty's hair gently and soothingly and says nothing. He lets Rusty cry silently, lets the emotion run through and out of him and he holds him, is there for him, as he always wants to be, as he always ought to be.

Time passes.

"He…he made me…Danny…he…and his fingers…oh…oh…he…Danny…"

Danny hears words breathed and jumbled and imagines the fragments of memory sharding through Rusty.

"I know, I know, Rus. I know." He does. He's seen it. His fingers tighten on Rusty.

"And he wanted to…he was going to…he would have…Danny, he was too strong…I tried…he…Danny…"

Bare sobs are rocking their way through Rusty and Danny feels their aftershock. He pulls back and he looks at Rusty and other hotel rooms swim before his eyes: the first one with the nightmare and the second one with the nailbrush and the third one with the tell and Amsterdam and Paris and now, now he is looking yet again at the legacy of Bryn. He smiles though tears are forming and he leans forward and kisses Rusty's forehead then reaches down and picks up Rusty's left hand and kisses it tenderly.

"He's gone," he echoes Saul's words and looks into Rusty's eyes and he sees the inner shaking gradually stop.

"We're free…" Rusty says wonderingly, tasting the words and Danny nods. They are. Bryn is gone.

"I could push the beds together," Danny offers. "But only if you-"

"Please." Definite. "But not just yet."

Time passes.

* * *

Rusty lies on his back and his hand is in Danny's, lying beside him. The cast on his other arm is cumbersome and there is no way he is going to tolerate it for four months. His knee feels stiff and awkward. His mind is numb and if he had the energy to think about it, he would have to admit he is exhausted. It all seems minor compared to the single thought possessing him.

Bryn is gone. Bryn is dead. Bryn…Bryn just isn't.

His fingers squeeze Danny's.

"How are we doing?" Danny asks.

"OK."

He feels rather than sees the nod. He turns his head and looks at Danny.

"Gonna take some getting used to."

"Yeah. But in a good way."

And Rusty's grip tightens.

_Don't you-_

_Not planning to._

Rusty nods again and Danny crooks a smile and they drift into dreamless sleep till dawn.

* * *

A/N: and that's it. Hope you enjoyed and that is it. Apart from epilogue. There shall be epilogue.


	24. Epilogue

An Unholy Alliance by InSilva

Disclaimer: own nothing of an Ocean's nature. Still have fingers crossed. Then again I am eternal optimist.

Epilogue

* * *

_The hotel bar was packed._

_Danny appeared with drinks and laughter and yet there was a feeling of foreboding. Someone was watching, someone was watching with intent…_

_Rusty was strolling across the room, elegant and self-assured and smiling and yet there was something wrong. Someone was waiting, someone was waiting with purpose…_

_And there was sudden movement and then horror unfolded. Right in the middle of the bar. Right in front of those drinking. And none of them did anything about it._

_Rusty, clothes ripped from his body, defiled and degraded and not helpless, never helpless, but powerless to stop the inhumanly vicious and the cruelly brutal. And it was agony to witness, agony to endure. _

_And then the scene shifted and so did the focus._

_Danny, fighting. Fighting like his life depended on it. Fists flying, scrapping, scuffling, punching, striking, thumping, hitting… And nothing he did was enough. Everything he offered came back in bloody spades. And it was agony to witness, agony to endure._

_There were tears._

For a while, the dreams die down. And then…

_A room. No windows. No escape. And Bryn Gower sat on a chair grinning up at him. _

It's your fault_. _If it wasn't for you, they wouldn't have been hurt.

_He wants to deny. He can't deny. It's his fault._

_He looks down at Bryn Gower still grinning up at him and he watches in horrified fascination as his own hand wraps into dark and silver hair and pulls Bryn's head back and then his fingers close around a knife and he slices it slowly across Bryn's throat. The blood flows out and over and still Bryn is grinning up at him even as he can hear the screaming start._

He wakes up with a start. Dreams. Nightmares. He swallows. He still feels the guilt. He can still hear the throes of death.

* * *

"Saul."

"Danny. Rusty."

"Saul."

The waitress puts three cups of coffee in front of them and all three immediately pick up a cup to drink from and to hide behind.

Saul sighs. They are never going to volunteer. His fingers continue to grip the cup as he puts it down.

"Three times," he says simply. "Three times you thought you were rid of him."

"Saul," Rusty begins and Saul avoids looking at the ridiculous cast, "it's over now, we don't have to-"

"Yes, we do!" Saul raises his voice and they both wince at the pain. Others look round at them and Saul says again in a low tone, "I saw, Rusty. I saw you and I saw you," he looks at Danny, the marks fading on his face. "And then I saw Michael." His voice shakes. "And then I saw Bryn."

Bryn. And he cannot ignore the flinch that they both try to bury from him.

"I saw Bryn and more than that, I could see what happened in that room. No." He shakes his head as he sees Danny open his mouth to contradict. "No, Daniel, I saw." His voice trembles now. "And now, you tell me."

He stares them out and Rusty sighs and Danny's face is full of unspoken curses.

"Started a long time ago, Saul," Rusty says eventually and Saul sees the tightness in Danny's face. "We were young and lucky and we thought our luck would hold. And then there was Bryn."

"We set him up, Saul."

"We put him away."

"Just that in doing so, I-"

"-we-"

"-_I _let him-"

"-it was my idea-"

"-I could have stopped it-"

"Boys!" Saul calls them to order.

"He had a thing for blonds," Rusty explains abruptly. "We needed information. I went to get it."

Saul exhales slowly. He looks from one to the other and then starts to ask the question he doesn't want the answer to. "Did he-"

"No. No," Rusty reassures quickly and with an apologetic glance at Danny, reluctantly adds, "he tried."

Danny closes his eyes.

"He tried and Danny stopped him. We set him up and he went to jail."

Danny opens them again and stares at the ceiling and Saul is certain that it's to keep him from seeing the raw pain inside his eyes.

"Unfortunately, we ended up in jail too," he says and Rusty studies the nails of his good hand. "The same jail," Danny clarifies.

This has to be dealt with. "You two went to jail? And I didn't get to hear about it?"

"No one did, Saul." Danny's looking at him again now. "It was for two days and, well, it wasn't really us."

"It wasn't you."

"It was Jimmy Stewart," Rusty says helpfully.

"Something that backfired."

"Anyway, we ran up against Bryn again. And…he tried again." There's emotion now in Rusty's voice and Saul knows that he would keep it out if he could which means he can't which means the memory is still overwhelming.

Danny steps in to cover. "He tried again. I couldn't…" he tails off.

"You did!" Rusty says fiercely. He looks at Saul. "He did," he says definitely and quietly.

"And it was alright, Saul. Because he didn't know who we were."

"He thought he did."

"He thought he knew a lot of things."

"But then…"

The conversation halts.

"Then, I went missing," Saul finishes. "And you found Gerard had already given Bryn money to go after the diamonds. And you went after me. And you had to…" _Oh, God! _"…you had to be with him."

The same look of hooded misery is in both sets of eyes looking at him from across the table.

"You should have walked away," Saul says firmly.

There is a pair of synchronised mirthless smiles.

"It was already too late by then, even if we'd wanted to," Rusty tells him.

"By then, he had our real names. And besides-"

"-besides."

There is love and affection and warmth sitting opposite him and Saul has never felt more love and more guilt washing through him in simultaneous measures.

"It's just that we set him up again." Danny's voice is distant. "And yet…" His eyes grow sharp. "That's why I asked whether you were sure."

_Me too,_ he reads from Rusty.

"I am sure," he says at once. "I sat outside while they…" _Butchered? Executed? _"…while they killed him. And I saw his body afterwards. Bryn Gower is very, very dead. I promise you both."

He sees the effect his words have and the mix of liberation and emotion in both their faces.

"Thank you, Saul," Rusty's tone is brittle and Saul is not too sure that he isn't about to crumble.

Obviously, Danny hears the note of fragility too and steps in at once.

"Do you want to leave a message on Rusty's cast? Something for him to look forward to?"

"Have you?" Saul asks, diverted and intrigued.

Danny grins. "Right round the back where he can't see. It's driving him crazy. Almost as much as cutting holes in his favourite suits and shirts."

Rusty scowls and Saul finds himself unexpectedly laughing.

"It _itches_," Rusty says plaintively and Saul sees the look of affection and concern flit across Danny's face. The boys will look after each other. They always have done. They always will.

* * *

The wind is blowing and there is a light rain and the graveyard is pretty much deserted. They stand staring down at the gravestone for a long while.

"You're never gonna change the way I feel," Rusty says suddenly. "If it wasn't for me, he would still be alive."

Danny lets his head drop back on his shoulders so that the rain drizzles over his face.

"If we hadn't been there in Amsterdam, Bryn would still have turned up again in his life. Would still have hurt him." He looks at Rusty who is still staring at the marker. "Think what sort of an existence he had, Rus. Not even ten years made a difference. We gave him another start."

Rusty bends down and puts the tulips on the grave then straightens up and looks at Danny. "We brought the apocalypse down on his head."

There is silence and pain and blame and then Danny sighs. "Come on. I'm sure you're not supposed to get that plaster wet."

* * *

It has taken a little digging. Questions asked and money offered and now they are standing outside the door to an apartment.

"You ready?" Danny asks quietly.

Rusty nods. Danny cracks the lock and they step inside. The apartment is as dead as its owner. The air is stale and their noses wrinkle.

Danny heads over to the stack of video-cassettes. Rusty heads to the VCR and presses eject. There is going to be a bonfire.

"Bedroom," Rusty says tightly and they push open the door.

There are drawers and closets and they search diligently. Danny finds it in a shoebox. He reads the label and the fury shudders through him. His fist closes over it before Rusty can read it.

_No._

And Rusty holds his gaze for a long moment before accepting the decision.

* * *

It isn't four months. It isn't even three. Rusty is nothing if not resourceful and Danny walks back through the door to see him applying the blade to the plaster above his elbow. Rusty has ambidexterity but even so this does not seem sensible or safe and Danny shouts. Rusty stops. And then holds out the blade with a set to his jaw that tells Danny he can help or get the hell out.

He can never say no to Rusty.

He takes the blade from him and completes the job. The cast cracks open and Rusty pulls his arm free. It is lacking muscle and seems withered. Moreover, it is locked in a right-angle and Rusty winces as he tries to straighten it. He shoots a look of pure panic at Danny who reaches out and holds his right hand.

"Gently, Rusty. Move it a little at a time. You'll find yourself freeing up soon enough."

Rusty nods and then smiles. "What do you know about it?"

"Broke my foot when I was eleven. In plaster up to my knee."

"Eleven? What were you doing?"

Danny busies himself brushing away dead skin from Rusty's arm. "I was doing sports."

"Well, that explains your general reluctance-" Rusty breaks off and looks closer. "What sort of sports?"

"Running."

He feels the weight of the wait.

"Kiss chase," he says with a sigh.

"You were chasing?"

"I was the chasee," Danny elaborates unwillingly and lifts his eyes to Rusty. "The girls were very fast in my school. And determined. And three of them…" There was a dim memory of being tackled and going down in a tangle of limbs and giggles and sudden searing pain.

Rusty's gaze is level and inescapable. "You couldn't outrun a group of girls."

Danny grimaces. "Told you. They were single-minded."

"How fast were you running?"

"Fast enough."

"You wanted to be caught."

"I can march you to the hospital and demand another cast, you know."

Rusty is silent though his lips twitch. He reaches down with his left hand and picks the cast up off the floor. He reads the date Danny has written on it.

"You were out by two weeks," he points out.

"I was hoping you'd give yourself more time." Danny's eyes are serious. "Don't rush this, Rusty. Promise me. This is important."

Rusty blinks and then sighs and nods and Danny feels better on this point. Because he's asked and Rusty has given and they don't lie to each other about things like that.

* * *

A year later and the pair of them are lying on their fronts on the floor of a hotel room, studying the plans to the goldsmiths.

They're not sharing a bed any longer. They're not sharing a room unless they want to though they usually pay for two and end up in the one, talking and drinking into the early hours till one falls asleep on the couch and the other dives headfirst into pillows.

The nightmares are long gone. The physical has disappeared. They are healed.

Danny looks across at Rusty beside him and there is the tail end of a conversation that finishes with the ludicrous and the unlikely and the laughter and they grin at each other.

"We need a distraction," Danny says, glancing at the plans. "Something to focus the attention at the front of the building."

There is thoughtful silence beside him and Danny stares at the blueprints in front of him and steels himself and then turns his head.

Rusty's fingers and thumb are busy. Rubbing over his mouth. Over his lips. Over and over and over and it's _over_, it's over and it never will be. And Rusty will never know about the legacy of Bryn.

"Sewer," Rusty says suddenly and his hand leaves his mouth and jabs at the plans. He turns to smile at Danny.

"Sewer," Danny nods, face carefully relaxed, eyes alight with the right amount of amusement. "You've still not forgiven me for London, have you?"

Rusty grins. "Just don't wear any shoes you care about."

* * *

A/N: And that is it truly. This is a fic that bubbled away for a long time and I want to thank otherhawk again for prereading the latter half for me and making sure it made sense. She is awfully good at details. You may have noticed. And I am just not worthy.

And thank you to everyone who's read and followed and reviewed.

And yes, yes. He is really dead. You can take Saul's word for it.


End file.
